








I < 
“OL ogicay SENS? 


BV 1546 .D4 
Demerest, Ada Rose. 
Stories fon the junior Sard 





_-~ 


—— 


Pty My 





<_< 


® at 
Pay ae 
a 


ing 


° 

2 
i 
3 





Digitized by the Internet Archive 
In 2022 with funding from . 
Princeton Theological Seminary Library 


https://archive.org/details/storiesforjuniorO0deme_0 





OWA SE PRB ON 
\ ‘7% 





SEP 11 1995 


Stories for thei genin 
Junior Hour 


Stories and Dramatizations Adapted from 
Scripture and Other Sources for the Use of 
Workers with Junior Groups in Bible Schools, 
~ Week-day Schools of Religious Education, Daily 
Vacation Bible Schools and Junior Church. 


By // 
VY 
ADA ROSE DEMEREST 


THE STANDARD PUBLISHING COMPANY 
CINCINNATI, O. 


” ’ ¢ 
Fn? wl } 
; 


re 


, 





DEDICATED 
TO 


MY MOTHER 





CONTENTS 
Ik. 


iso EO LLOME} GOD HIONORED!... oe. ce ee 


An idealistic story of the home life of 
Jesus. Some imagined details helping 
to impress the historical narrative. 


II. 
How JEALousy Broke UP A FamIty.... 
The story of Cain and Abel. Retold 


from the Bible. 
IMAL 


A Man oF Many FRIENDSHIPS......... 


The friendships of Robert Louis Steven- 
son and the Road of the Loving Heart. 
(A true story.) 


live 
_= AY GOVENANT OF FRIENDSHIP...... 2... . 


The story of David and Jonathan. Re- 
told from the Bible. 
5 


ay 


21 


26 


CONTENTS 





V. 
DAMON, ANDIGEY DHIAS Wvitapor cence sists eee 


Retold from an old legend. A tale of 
loyalty in friendship. 


AA 
A Goop NEIGHBOR OF OLDEN TIMES.... 37 


Abraham proves himself a generous and 
helpful neighbor. Retold from the 
Bible. 

VII. 


ANDREW DISCOVERS THE RoyAL LAW.... 42 


A boy discovers that love is stronger 
than hate in neighborhood relationships. 
A realistic story. 


SPRUE ELOSPETALITY | ge ok ny ce 54 


Abraham entertains three angels una- 
wares. Retold from the Bible. 


1B. 
Noi RESPECTER OF .COLOR{ in, it aati 59 


The baptism of an Ethiopian. Retold 


from the Bible. 
6 


CONTENTS 


X. 
LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALL”’....'...; 


Public-school children humiliate a for- 
eign boy, but later change their attitude 
toward him. Based on a true incident. 


MAE 
EIN DEOR DH EOREUDT aacn ao UA vier, 


A Kentucky mountain story, based on 
Jesus’ teaching, ‘“‘love thine enemy.” A 
realistic story. 


NT Ts 
MOH ee eS) CL Lacy oe eh ea tee tame 


An orphanage girl is made happy by a 
girl who is ‘‘thankful she has so much.” 
A realistic story. 


PA Whe 


BS erate CF 0 | CELI sus a 0s Scene Wy lave (olatip ora ts 


A group of boys bring happiness to a 
crippled orphan and at the same time to 
a whole orphanage. Based on a true 
incident. 

7 


72 


82 


87 


CONTENTS 





XIV. 
THE STATUE IN A CALICO DREss........ 94 


The story of Margaret of New Or- 
leans. A true story. 


XV. 
THE VDVACE-MAKERS (cg. 10. oils vepe heen eee 99 


A group of Armenian orphanage girls 
are so desirous of helping with the or- 
phanage expenses that they count no risk 
too great to secure materials with which 
to work. Based on a real happening. 


XVI. 
THE LIGHT ON THE BLUFF +4 eee 106 


A fisherman’s daughter makes her home 
a lighthouse and saves ships at sea. 
Based on an actual incident. 


XVII. 
A Boy ScopT KEErs, FAITHGS 2 ee ea 


An Armenian Boy Scout faces hardships 
and starvation to serve his people, 
though given a chance to escape to 
America and be safe. Based on a true 
incident. 

8 


CONTENTS 


XVIII. 
SIDNEY’S RECOMMENDATION ............ 119 


Sidney keeps the Lord’s Day in spite of 
strong odds against him, and great good 
comes out of the sacrifice. Based on a 
true story. 

XIX. 


DEAE OIGDATEST OF MCONSGCIENCE,. won shy. 127 


A French boy, with his family, finds free- 
dom to worship God acccording to the 
dictates of conscience. A story of the 
persecution of the French Huguenots, his- 
torically accurate. 


XX. 


Davip WuHo WATCHED WITH THE SHEP- 
EER TOS ety heen Rar ere CN ets Tike 


\ 


An idealistic Christmas story. 
XXI. 
PRHEAIWUANIIAE WANTED TOPBE.: ose sre TAT : 


An idealistic New Year’s story of how a 
boy turned over a new leaf and started 
really to make himself the man he 


wanted to be. 
9 


CONTENTS 





XXII. 


CO-ORDINATED STUDY AND SocIAL ACTIv- 
TITIES ORSON Cee SG nen Sn see ie ke 148 


Group 1, Family Life. Group 2, Friend- 
ship. Group 3, Neighborliness. Group 
4, Our Relations to Strangers and For- 
eigners. Group 5, Forgiving Our Ene- 
mies. Group 6, Making Others Happy. 
Group 7, Faithfulness in Service. Group 
8, The Christmas Lesson. Group 9, 
Strengthening Our Good Resolution. 


XXIII. 
SUPPLEMENTAL (oc: 2)otioo Ae) nee ae 190 


Hymns to be used with stories. Sugges- 
tions for supplementary stories. 


10 


i 
THE HOME GOD HONORED. 


|? was Christmas eve, though the family did 

not call it that. They knew it as the anni- 
versary of the night. when a son was born. 
There were other boys in the family and two 
girls—perhaps more. The ones who wrote 
down the original story failed to be exact as to 
the number. 

The family sat on low cushions and mats 
around a meager charcoal fire that burned in 
a narrow earthenware pan, for the weather was 
not warm. A hanging-lamp cast a fitful light 
upon them. The scroll of the Scriptures was 
unrolled in the hands of the father. Every 
night the family gathered thus. Always they 
repeated together the Shema: “Hear, O Israel, 
the Lord our God is one Lord. And thou 
shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine 
heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy 
might.” Following that, each child repeated 
the ancient and holy law which God had given 

iit 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





to their forefathers through Moses, beginning, 
‘And God spake all these things, saying, I am 
the Lord thy God,” and continuing on through 
the Ten Commandments. Then the father 
prayed to God for guidance for his family. 

This night, after the recitation of the law 
and the prayer, one of the boys said: “Mother, 
tell us about the night when Jesus was born.”’ For 
this was the family of Joseph, the carpenter 
of Nazareth, and Mary, his wife, in the far- 
away land of Palestine, nearly two thousand 
years ago. 

It was a humble home in a small town. But 
the town was clean and orderly, like most 
Jewish towns. ‘The one-room house, though 
scantily furnished and used as a carpenter-shop 
for Joseph as well as a home for the family, 
was clean and orderly. ‘The worship of Jeho- 
vah set the Jews apart from the heathen idol- 
worshipers of those days. The women were 
more respected; there was happy home life; the 
members of the family were respectful in man- 
ner toward one another, and reverent and obe- 
dient to father and mother. 

In Mary’s heart were treasured memories, 
which made her know that Jesus would some 
day go out into the world to teach mankind 
of a better way of life than they knew, and 


12 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


reveal to them the wonderful love of God the 
Father, which they did not fully understand. 
Mary knew that Jesus was especially ap- 
pointed for a great work in the world. She 
did not speak of these things often, treas- 
uring them in her heart, but on this, His birth- 
day night, she yielded to the request of another 
member of the family. 

How still they all sat, while Mary told 
again of the angel’s visit to announce to her 
the coming of Jesus. “After that,’ she said, 
‘Joseph and I[ took the long, long journey 
to Bethlehem, the tribal city of our wonder- 
ful ancestor David. It was the king’s com- 
mand that all should go to the city of their 
ancestors to be enrolled for taxation. How 
dismayed we were to find the inn full. But, 
oh! how thankful we became when we were 
given the stable opening into the courtyard of 
the inn. Any kind of shelter seemed good 
to us that night.” 

How sweet her voice was as she con- 
tinued: ‘‘After the child was born and had been 
wrapped in swaddling-clothes and laid in the 
manger, shepherds came. ‘They told us they 
had had a wonderful vision of angels that 
filled the whole heavens with light, and who an- 
nounced to them that the babe just born was the 

13 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


promised Messiah. And afterwards, wise men 
and rich from far-off lands, following a star that 
guided them to that humble birthplace, came to 
pay homage to my child.” 

The story that Mary told that long-ago 
night to her little family was the same one that 
we have heard so often at the Christmas time. 
But it had only been told a few times then, and 
everybody listened in awe and wonder. 

Then Mary arose and went to a rude cup- 
board. She brought back a golden vessel—one 
of the few household treasures. Holding it in 
her hand, she said: ‘The wise men brought 
gifts. The most valuable ones we had to sell 
for our trip down into Egypt, where we went 
to save the young child’s life. But in this vessel 
was wonderfully sweet incense which they 
burned there in the stable as they knelt before 
Jesus.” 

She put the vessel on the rough carpen- 
ter’s bench near at hand, and, standing there 
among her children in their Nazareth home, 
she repeated the opening sentence of the Mag- 
nificat, the song she had sung when the angel 
announced to her that Jesus was to be born: 
“My soul doth magnify the Lord, 

And my spirit hath rejoiced in God. my 
Saviour.” , 
14 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





All together the family responded, “‘Amen! 
Amen!” 

The others looked at Jesus with wonder 
and pride, for was He not their brother? God 
had shown great honor to their family, though 
they did not understand clearly then just what 
the mission of Jesus was to be. In the heart 
of Jesus there swelled a feeling of wonder, too, 
and of joy. All these things were spoken of 
Him. He was to be God’s special messenger 
to Israel, and to the whole world. He must 
make Himself worthy. 

He felt as if He should like to begin His 
great work at once. How could He wait 
through the years until He became a man! But 
the voice of God within Him said: “In mine 
own time shall my glory be revealed, and all 
these things come to pass for the salvation of 
my people.” 

Then the father rolled the scroll and all 
went to their night’s rest. 

Days passed; years passed. Joseph died, 
so some students of the Bible say, and Jesus 
may have become the head of the family. If 
He did, it was His duty to care for the mother 
and maybe others. Jesus could shirk no duty. 
He had learned the carpenter’s trade, and 
though within His heart was the high hope, 

2 15 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


the burning zeal to fulfill His mission, always 
He heard God’s voice: “In mine own time shall 
thy work be given thee.’’ 

When the time did come, and the way was 
open, out from that Jewish home went this won- 
derful son of Mary, to teach, to preach, to 
heal and to reveal God’s plan of life to the 
world, so that in the days and years and cen- 
turies following men should live nobler, women 
should be revered, children should be better 
cared for and the homes of the world be hap- 
pier and holier. All these things have been 
coming to pass through the years since Jesus 
lived on earth, because people have under- 
stood God through His revelation of Himself 
in Jesus Christ our Saviour. And to-day mil- 
lions of people thank God for that home in 
Nazareth, which, though humble, was filled with 
love and reverence for God and love and re- 
spect for parents and for one another; that 
home that God so especially honored, and 
where Jesus spent the years that prepared Him 
to be the Saviour of the world. 


16 


Bl 
HOW JEALOUSY BROKE UP A FAMILY. 


NCE upon a time there were two broth- 
ers, named Cain and Abel. They lived 

longer ago than we really know, but, because 
one of them was the first person we have 
any record of to break a certain law of God, 
their story has been told over and over, times 
without number, for thousands of years. 

Cain was the older, and he turned to farm- 
ing for a-living. He tilled the soil, weeded 
the garden and gathered his harvests in due 
season. It may be that he did not like to 
work overmuch, for the story seems to indicate 
that he did not prosper very well. 

Abel, the younger, was a shepherd, and had 
flocks which he tended. He must have been a 
good shepherd and led his flocks in green pas- 
tures and near clear water, for we are told that 
his flocks increased and he was prosperous. 

Now, Cain was far from happy. If lazi- 
ness or careless work really was the cause of his 

17 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





lack of success, he probably sulked and refused 
to recognize that he was to blame. 

There began to grow up in Cain’s heart 
a hatred of his prosperous brother. The more 
Abel prospered, in that same degree it seemed 
Cain failed. ‘The hatred grew and grew, until 
it was all Cain could think of. His face grew 
sullen and ugly with holding such thoughts con- 
stantly. Of course, as his anger possessed him, 
he was that much more unfitted to work and 
recover his fortunes. 

Both Cain and Abel brought, at regular 
times, offerings which they laid upon the altar 
as a sacrifice to God. Both men wanted their 
sacrifices to be acceptable to God, and hoped 
God would make them prosper. Cain began 
to blame God for his poor crops and his misfor- 
tune. When he saw his brother’s prosperity, 
he concluded that God was partial to Abel be- 
cause Abel brought a lamb for sacrifice and he 
could only bring the fruit of the ground. 

If Cain had not been so filled with hatred, 
he would have known it was not the kind of 
sacrifice, but the spirit in which he gave it, that 
displeased God. God tried to help Cain, as He 
always does His people, by speaking through 
their conscience if they will only listen. God 
said to Cain: “Why art thou angry? Why 

18 


‘\ 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


is thy countenance fallen? If thou doest well, 
is there not acceptance? But if thou doest not 
well, then does sin crouch at your door.” 

But Cain steeled his heart against the warn- 
ing of God and hated Abel the more. And the 
sin that crouched at the door of his heart leaped 
up in full strength and took possession of him 
entirely. 

One day Cain said to Abel: ‘‘Come out into 
the field with me; I want to talk to you.” He 
said it in an ugly tone, but Abel, with only love 
and kindly feeling in his heart, paid no attention 
to the tone and went with his brother. 

When they were off in the field so there 
would be no one to witness the terrible deed, 
Cain fell upon Abel and killed him—killed his 
own brother who had never done him any 
wrong. 

It must have been that Cain was horri- 
fied at his action afterward, but, instead of being 
repentant, he was defiant, and when the voice 
of God came to him, saying, ‘‘Where is Abel, 
thy brother?’ Cain said insolently: “I know 


. & not. Am I my brother’s keeper?” 


Then th ul.voice of God said: “What 


ii 
have you done? ‘The voice of thy brother’s 


x / 


blood crieth to me from the ground. Hence- 
forth when thou tillest it shall not yield unto 
19. 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


thee its strength, and thou shalt be a wanderer 
on the face of the earth.” 

Then Cain realized fully what he had done. 
He knew he was no longer worthy to live with 
his family or with honest people. He had 
brought sorrow and disgrace upon his home. 
He became terrified lest some one should kill 
him in judgment for his crime. And he cried 
out unto God: ‘‘My punishment is greater than 
Pecan bear 

God assured Cain that no one would kill 
him. But he would have to pay the penalty 
of his crime by being cut off from his family 
forever. No more could he live among the up- 
right and the just. By his own act he had 
made himself unworthy. And Cain was a wan- 
derer to the end of his days. 


20 


IDO. 
A MAN OF MANY FRIENDSHIPS. 


RNG the things Robert Louis Stevenson 
wanted most and prayed for as the desires 
of his heart were: friends and health. 

Of these two desires, health seemed the 
one he had the most difficulty in securing. From 
early boyhood he was frail, and in manhood he 
had a constant and desperate struggle with ill- 
ness. Up and down the world he went, seeking 
a climate that would agree with his lungs, where 
he might live in a fair degree of health and go 
on with the writing of his wonderful books. He 
refused to be baffled. 

About the year 1890 Robert Louis Ste- 
venson, with his family, sailed through the 
Golden Gate bound for the islands of the Pa- 
cific and the South Seas. He could no longer 
live in his native Scotland; he had tried many 
places in Europe and America. Now he would 
try a strange part of the world—not so well 
known then as now. 

21 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


For three years he wandered among the 
islands, and at the end of that time he found 
a place where he felt he might secure at least 
health sufficient to allow him to work on his 
books. It was the Island of Upolu of the Sa- 
moan, group. in the South Seas, ¥ Dhere she 
bought a piece of property and built a house. 

This island was far away from his native 
home; it was far away from his many dear 
friends. The natives of the island were of a 
different race, with dark skins like the Ha- 
waiians. They wore strange clothes, and very 
little of them sometimes, and spoke a strange 
language. 

Now it seemed as if his great desire to find 
health might be partly fulfilled. But what about 
his desire for friendships! In far-off Scotland, 
in England and in America were friends among 
whom he had found great joy, friends who 
loved him and whom he loved. But he could 
not see them or talk with them. Where could 
he find friends in this strange part of the world? 
How could he give friendship to these people 
who were different and strange! 

He might ‘have said to himself: ‘‘Oh, well, 
[ll give up all thoughts of friendships out here. 
I will leave my neighbors alone and just live 
with my family for companionship.” But, in- 

22 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


stead of that, he said: “My duty to my neigh- 
bor is... that I have to make him happy.” 

Then he began to look around to see who 
his neighbors were. He found there were some 
white residents on the island: the consuls, the 
postmaster, traders, Protestant missionaries and 
Catholic priests and Sisters of Charity, and oc- 
casionally officers and men of the warships 
which entered the harbor. It was not long 
until he began to make new friends. His 
house soon became a place where all these peo. 
ple came. There came, too, the chiefs of the 
Samoan tribes whom he found worthy of friend- 
ship. It was a strange group of people, to be 
sure. But they all wanted to come because 
Stevenson was friendly, because he was _ kind, 
because he was interested in everybody, because 
it was a delight to be with him. 

He could not be satisfied, however, with 
being kind to the white people and the native 
chiefs only; his kindness reached out and touched 
everybody on the island. He often gave enter- 
tainments in which the natives of all stations in 
life might have a share. He learned the Sa- 
moan language so he could talk with them. 
There seemed no limit to his kindness and gen- 
erosity. The natives called him by the name 
‘““Tusitala,’’ which means “the writer of tales.” 

23 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





Once, when some of the native chiefs were in 
prison for political reasons, Tusitala showed 
them unusual kindness. He visited them and 
was untiring in seeing that their needs were 
taken care of. Their gratitude was unbounded. 
When they were released they took counsel to- 
gether as to how they might show their love 
and gratitude. 

This was what they chose to do: A long 
path led from Stevenson’s house to the main 
road that crossed the island. ‘They would turn 
the path into a roadway sixty feet wide, that 
should be a worthy approach to the house of 
their Tusitala. Accordingly they set to work. 
They cleared and dug; they took care of all 
the labor and the cost of material for making 
the road. A number of men worked several 
weeks at the task, and when the road was fin- 
ished they named it ‘‘Ala Loto Alofa,” which 
means “The Road of the Loving Heart.”’ The 
builders said of it: “It shall never be muddy; 
it shall endure forever, this road that we have 
dug.” 

Three years and a half after Stevenson set- 
tled in that Samoan island he died. Only a 
short time he had lived among these people, but 
the Road of the Loving Heart proves the won- 
der of the friendships he formed. The number 

24 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


of people who came to the house, and the trib- 
utes of flowers with which the Samoans filled 
the room where he lay, told how deeply they 
grieved for him. 

As a last loyal service, two hundred natives 
cleared another path of the loving heart up 
the steep, heavily wooded and almost impass- 
able side of the mountain, that Stevenson’s 
grave might be dug on its very summit. The 
great writer had often expressed a wish to be 
buried there. ‘The path was steep and rugged 
even when cleared, and it tested to the limit the 
great strength of the powerful Samoans who 
carried the coffin to the top. 

Over Tusitala’s grave the Samoans built a 
large tomb of great blocks of cement, and on 
it they placed a bronze plate which bears the 
words in the Samoan language, “The Tomb of 
Tusitala.” The last loving tribute to their 
friend was an order issued by the chiefs that 
no one should ever be allowed to fire a gun 
upon the hillside, so that the birds might not 
be disturbed when they came to sing over the 
grave of the man who had taught them the 
meaning of true friendship. 





Notre.—This story is based on a biography of Robert 
Louis Stevenson, written by Graham Balfour. 


25 


IV. 
A COVENANT OF FRIENDSHIP. 


the days when Saul was king of Israel, 
- David, a young shepherd lad, became famous 
for his deeds of strength and bravery. At 
first King Saul was proud of him, and sent for 
David to come and live in his house and play 
for him upon the harp. | 

As time went on, however, and the fame 
of David spread among the people, Saul be- 
came jealous. When he heard the people sing- 
ing David's praises, 

‘Saul hath slain his thousands, 
But David his ten thousands,”’ 
the king became bitterly jealous that his people 
should consider David more successful in bat- 
tle than he. Whereupon Saul declared he 
would kill the young shepherd. 

Now, King Saul had a son whose name was 
Jonathan. And Jonathan loved David as his 
own soul. They made a covenant together 
that they would remain friends as long as they 

26 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





both should live. In token of their friendship 
Jonathan gave David his own garments and 
his sword and his bow and his girdle. 

When Jonathan heard his father’s terrible 
words he was greatly grieved, and he spoke to 
David: ‘Saul, my father, seeketh to kill thee. 
Therefore abide for the present in a secret place 
and go not for a time into the king’s presence.”’ 

Then Jonathan went to his father the king, 
and spoke well of David and said: ‘Why dost 
thou seek to kill David? He hath not sinned 
against thee. He hath done nothing but good 
for thee. Wherefore wilt thou slay him without 
cause?’ 

Saul was ashamed and sorry for his jealous 
anger, and said: “‘As the Lord liveth, he shall 
not be slain.”’ 

Then Jonathan went after David and 
brought him again to the king’s house. But 
it was not long before King Saul again heard 
the people singing David’s praises. He began 
to brood over the love and admiration which 
the people gave David, and his hatred was again 
directed toward the young shepherd lad. 

One day when David was playing upon his 
harp, the king’s soul overflowed with jealous 
rage, and he threw his javelin at David. But 

David was young and swift of action. He 
27 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


sprang quickly aside from the flying javelin and 
slipped away and went and hid himself. ‘The 
king sent for him, but David did not go. Then 
he sought out his friend Jonathan and said: 

“What have I done? Why dost thy father 
seek my life?” 

Jonathan replied: ‘‘David, thou shalt not 
die. I will watch between thee and my fa- 
ther S-angen wLrust-me.) 

David replied: ‘To-morrow is the festival 
of the new moon, and I shall be expected to 
sit at table with thy father the king. But if 
he is still angry with me, it were not best I 
should be there, even though he hath sent for 
me. Let me abide in the field until evening, and 
thou canst let me know if the king misses me and 
how he feels toward me. If it is safe for me 
to come, I will come. But if thy father is still 
angry, then will I go away.” 

They decided that David should hide him- 
self in a field near the house, and Jonathan 
said: “I will find out whether my father has 
repented of his anger or whether it is still 
strong against thee. When I have found out I 
will slip out and give thee a signal whereby 
thou mayest know, for it would not be safe 
for us to be seen talking together.”’ 

Jonathan explained the signal: 

28 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


“IT will come to the field where thou art in 
hiding behind a great rock. I will shoot three 
arrows on the side thereof, as though I shot at 
a mark. Then will I send a lad, saying, ‘Go, 
find the arrows.’ And if I expressly say to the 
lad, ‘Behold, the arrows are on this side of thee, 
take them,’ then thou mayest come without fear. 
But if I say, ‘Behold, the arrows are beyond 
thee,’ then, O David, thou shalt go away, for 
the king is still angry.” 

So David hid as Jonathan had said. At the 
appointed time Jonathan went into the field and 
the little lad with him. And Jonathan said unto 
the lad, “Run and find the arrows which I 
shoot.” Jonathan shot an arrow beyond the 
rock and cried out to the lad as he ran: “Is 
not the arrow beyond thee?” The lad gathered 
the arrows in haste and brought them to Jon- 
athan, and the lad left the field. And because 
of the sign, David fled from the wrath of the 
king. 

Afterwards Jonathan sought out David in a 
place to the south where he had taken tem- 
porary refuge. There they took sorrowful 
leave of each other, for they knew it might be 
a long, long time before they would meet again. 
And Jonathan said to David: “Go in peace, and 
the Lord watch over us forever.”’ Then David 

29 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


departed and Jonathan went back to the king’s 
house. 

Now, it came about that before the king’s 
anger had softened against David, the king and 
Jonathan were both slain in battle. When the 
news came to David he mourned exceedingly 
as for a dearly loved brother: 

“Oh, Jonathan, I am distressed for thee, 

Very pleasant hast thou been unto me; 

Thy love to me was wonderful, passing the 
love of women. 

How have the mighty fallen, 

And the weapons of war perished.” 

Even so did David mourn for his dearly 
loved friend. And afterward, when David 
became king, he still remembered his love for 
Jonathan and sought to find if there were any 
sons of Jonathan living that he might show 
kindness to them for Jonathan’s sake. At first 
he was told there was none; that all the mem- 
bers of the house of Saul had been killed. But 
later there was found one lame boy. When 
David heard of him, he ordered his servants to 
go and fetch him. And because of the great 
love David had borne for Jonathan, he showed 
kindness unto this boy all the days of his life. 
Even so did David keep his covenant of friend- 
ship with Jonathan even after his death. 

30 


v. 
DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 


[‘ olden days every country had a king. These 
kings were very powerful and their word was 
law. Right or wrong, what the king said had 
to stand. 

It came to pass that in a certain country, 
where a king reigned who was not always just, 
two men were traveling. They had come from 
another country, and their names were Damon 
and Pythias. 

Now, it happened that Pythias did some- 
thing that displeased the king. It was noth- 
ing really wrong, but it displeased the king, and 
he said to his soldiers: ‘““Away to prison with 
him, and two months from to-day he must die.”’ 

byiniasmwas not ‘afraid ito ) die, but ihe 
thought of his parents and friends in his own 
country, and he said unto the king: 

“O King, I would that you should let me 
return to my own country to bid farewell to my 
father and mother and friends. Then will I 

3 31 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


return and be it even unto me as you have 
decreed.” 

The king laughed: ‘“‘He would save himself. 
Does he think for a minute I would trust him 
to go away? He thinks thus to get into his own 
country and be safe.” 

Pythias answered: “I give you my word, O 
King. I wish merely to see my friends once 
more, and [| will return as I have said.” 

Again the king laughed, and said scornfully: 
““He must think me a very foolish king to be- 
lieve such prattle. To prison with him.” 

Just then Damon spoke out: “O King, grant 
to my friend his request. Let him go and let 
me go to prison for him.” 

The king looked at Damon in a puzzled 
fashion. “Do you mean you will go to prison 
for your friend, expecting him to come back 
when he has a chance to get away?” 

Damon lifted his head and his eyes flashed: 
“Sir, Pythias is my friend. Whatever he says 
he will do, even so will he do it. I have no 
fear. I will go to prison for him, knowing full 
well that he will return and take up the sen- 
tence himself.”’ 

This seemed to amuse the king. ‘‘Fool, to 
believe a thing like that! But it matters not 
to me, one man or the other.’’ Then, turning 

32 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


to Pythias, he said: “Your foolish friend has 
purchased your leave to depart.’ And to the 
soldiers he said: ‘Off to prison with the other; 
such foolishness deserves prison walls.” 

So Damon went to prison, full of confidence 
in his friend. And Pythias departed to his own 
country to see his father and mother and 
friends. 

Days passed. One day the king, bethinking 
himself of the man in prison, inquired whether 
or not Pythias had returned. On being told he 
had not, he said to his soldiers: ‘‘Bring out the 
man who went to prison for his friend. Let 
us see now how he feels about his friend’s loy- 
alty. Loyalty, indeed! there is no such thing.” 

The soldiers brought Damon before the 
king. The king looked at him a minute, then 
said scornfully: “What think you now about 
your friend’s loyalty? Many days have passed. 
He has had full time to return. Right pleasant 
it must be to occupy a prison cell for a friend.”’ 

Damon looked proudly at the king and an- 
swered: ‘Sire, Pythias is my friend. He said 
he would return. Whatever he has said, he will 
do. I have no fear. In the meantime, I ac- 
cept even prison walls for my friend.” 

Now the king was truly filled with contempt, 
and said: “Take him back to prison. ‘There is 

33 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


no cure for those who are utterly foolish. 
We'll see how he feels when the time of execu- 
tion comes. Bah! The fellow actually believes 
his friend will come back.”’ 

The soldiers took Damon back to prison. 
More days passed. But Pythias did not come. 
The very day of the execution came, and Pythias 
had not returned. The king made inquiry of 
the soldiers, ‘‘Has the rogue returned who went 
to bid his parents and friends good-by?” In 
his own mind he was sure of the answer. 

When they told the king that Pythias had 
not returned, he said: “Aha! bring the prisoner 
before me. We shall see what he thinks about 
his friend now; we shall see how he likes to die 
for his friend.” 

The king stood on the royal balcony in the 
warm sunshine as the soldiers brought Damon 
before him. He looked at Damon with a mock- 
ing smile, and said: “It is pleasant to go to 
prison for one’s friend. How will it be to die 
for him? Ah! yes, he would return! He was 
your friend! He would keep his word! What 
think you of your friend now?” 

Damon looked fearlessly at the king and 
said: “‘Pythias is my friend. He said he would 
return. And Pythias always keeps his word. 
He would have returned had it been possible. 

34 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Something has prevented. [I still believe in his 
loyalty. JI am ready to die for him.” 

The king was utterly amazed. He had 
never thought of friendship in this way before. 
He had never believed that one could trust an- 
other so fully, and suffer for a friend. His 
heart softened a little. But he had given the 
sentence of death. He would not take back 
his word. 

As the king raised his hand to give a com- 
mand for the soldiers to remove Damon to the 
place of execution, he saw in the distance a 
great cloud of dust that seemed to be moving 
rapidly toward them. He delayed his com- 
mand. ‘Then he saw that the cloud of dust was 
caused by a man running—swift as the wind— 
toward the place where they all stood. A mo- 
ment more and the king saw that it was Pythias, 
ragged and dusty, and nearly exhausted. 

Pythias came before the king, gasping 
breathlessly: “Oh, how thankful I am.” The 
king looked at him queerly. Thankful! Was 
the man crazy? Didn’t he know he was com- 
ing back to die? 

Then Pythias told how he had been ship- 
wrecked, and how against storm and many hin- 
drances he had traveled day and night to reach 
them. Holding out his hand to Damon, he 

35 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


said: ‘“‘My friend, I can not thank you enough 
for your faith in me. I was nearly frantic 
with fear lest I should not reach here in time, 
and you would have to die for me.” 

Turning to the king, Pythias said: “I am 
ready to die. Give me into the hands of your 
executioner, and release my faithful friend.” 

The king’s amazement knew no bounds. 
Never had he seen anything like this before: 
One man willing to go to jail and even die for 
his friend, and that friend, having a chance to 
get away, returning to fulfill his own sentence. 
Then, as the jailor laid his hand upon Pythias’ 
shoulder to lead him away, the king raised his 
hand and said: 

“Stop! stop! I never saw friendship in this 
wise before. Pythias did nothing wrong; he 
only displeased me. Men like these should not 
die. Let Pythias go free.” 

As the king turned to go from the balcony 
back into his palace, those nearest him heard 
him softly say to himself: ‘I would give half 
of all I possess to have one friend as loyal and 
true to me as Damon and Pythias are to each 
other.”’ 


36 


Wil: 
A GOOD NEIGHBOR OF OLDEN TIMES. 


Ee a long-ago time, in a far-away land, when 
it was quite the custom for tribe to war upon 
tribe and strong tribes to plunder and take ad- 
vantage of weaker ones, Abraham, because he 
was a friend of God, showed how to love one’s 
neighbor as oneself. 

From a far country Abraham had traveled 
by the command of God to settle in the land 
of Canaan. He was a rich man, with many 
servants and retainers, and flocks and herds. 
With him had traveled his nephew, Lot, who 
was also rich in servants and flocks and herds. 

After much adventure, they pitched their 
tents near Bethel. In the course of time their 
flocks and herds increased until there was not 
enough pasture for all in the place they had 
chosen. Their herdsmen began to quarrel 
among themselves over pasture and water, so 
-much so that the quarrel came to the ears of 
Abraham. 

37 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Abraham said to Lot: “Let there be no 
quarrel between you and me and between your 
herdsmen and my herdsmen, for we are breth- 
ren. If there is not enough pasture here for 
both flocks, we will separate. You choose where 
you will dwell, and I will choose, and then there 
will be plenty of room for us both. It is God’s 
will that brethren and neighbors should live to- 
gether in peace.”’ 

Now, Abraham, being much the older and 
the head of the tribe, had a right to choose 
first. But Abraham was a generous man, and 
he said to Lot: “Take now thy choice of land. 
Behold! broad acres lie before us. Choose.” 

Lot had not expected anything of that 
sort. ‘Now,’ he thought to himself, “here is 
my chance. Every man should do the best he 
can for himself and let the other person have 
the same privilege. My Uncle Abraham has 
given me this choice. I may never have an- 
other chance to get something fine.” 

And Lot, looking about, saw that the plain 
of Jordan was well watered and had abun- 
dant pasturage. The rest of the land he saw 
was steep, rocky hillsides. Instead of taking 
part of the good land and part of the poor, Lot 
made a most selfish choice. “I will take the 
plains of Jordan,” he said. 

38 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





Abraham must have been very much sur- 
prised. He had made Lot a generous offer of 
first choice, and now Lot was showing himself 
selfish and greedy. But Abraham only an- 
swered, “Be it even as you have said.’’ And 
they separated. 

Lot pastured his flocks and herds on the 
rich plains, and Abraham pastured his on the 
hillside. He did not chide his nephew for his 
selfishness. He had said there must be no quar- 
rel between them, so he abode without com- 
plaint on the hillside. He did not perma- 
nently suffer, however, from his determination 
to live at peace with Lot, for later God led him 
thirty miles farther south to broader and better 
fields. 

When Lot chose the fertile plains of the 
Jordan he thought he was making a wonderful 
choice. But it turned out, as all selfish choices 
do, not quite so fine as he thought. To be sure, 
there were abundant water and pasture. And 
on the broad plains were the cities of Sodom 
and Gomorrah. Near the city of Sodom Lot 
pitched his tent and prepared to live in the 
enjoyment of riches and the entertainment the 
city had to offer him. Not a thought did he 
give to how his Uncle Abraham fared with his 
flocks on the rocky hillsides. 

39 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


His satisfaction did not last long, how- 
ever. Five kings from the East made war on 
the two cities. The kings of Sodom and Go- 
morrah fled and the invaders took all the goods 
of the city and Lot’s goods, and even Lot him- 
self was taken captive along with many others. 

The news of Lot’s captivity came to Abra- 
ham. He might have said: “Lot made his 
choice, and a mighty selfish one it was, too. 
Let him suffer what the choice brings of good 
or ill.” But he did not. Abraham bore no 
grudge against his selfish nephew, and, though a 
peaceful man, as we have seen, he led forth his 
trained men and gave chase to the invaders. 
He caught up with them and smote them; inso- 
much that he recovered the goods and the cap- 
tives, together with his nephew Lot. 

When the invaders were vanquished, the 
kings of the cities returned and life went on 
as usual in Sodom and Gomorrah. Abraham 
returned to his own tents and his flocks. 

But Sodom and Gomorrah were wicked cit- 
ies, and were marked for destruction. Abraham 
had a warning that the end of the cities was 
near, and he felt great sorrow for the people. 
He begged God to stay the destruction. But 
the cities were doomed. However, because of 
Abraham’s good life, Lot and his family were 

40 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


warned to flee for their lives to the hills; to 
make all haste and not even so much as to look 
back on the doomed cities lest they be con- 
sumed. 

As Lot and his wife and two daughters 
fled, the storm of destruction broke over the 
cities. Lot and his daughters made great haste 
according to instructions and did not look 
back. But, alas! Lot’s wife lagged behind. She 
wanted to see what was happening, and, behold, 
in that minute she, too, was overtaken with the 
destruction that wiped out the two wicked cities. 

The next morning Abraham went out into a 
high place from where he could see far over 
the plains, and lo! the smoke arose as the 
smoke of a furnace and the cities lay in ruins. 
But Lot and his daughters were saved because 
of the righteousness of Abraham. ‘Thus did 
Abraham three times prove a generous and 
helpful neighbor. 

And God blessed Abraham, and, in a country 
where it was the natural thing to quarrel with 
one’s neighbors, God let Abraham live in peace 
and comfort all the rest of his days. 


41 


VII. 


ANDREW DISCOVERS THE ROYAL 
LAW. 


NDREW< sat in his Uncle Abner Brown’s 

kitchen eating his breakfast. The men of 

the family, his uncle and his twenty-one-year-old 

cousin, had long since eaten and gone off to their 
work about the farm. 

Andrew was fourteen, and had always lived 
in the city. ‘This was his vacation, and he was 
not obliged to get up early unless he wished 
to do so. At first he had thought it great 
sport to get up with the sun and go for the 
cows with his cousin, and afterwards watch the 
two men milk. But it was an old story now, 
and he slept late when he felt like doing so. 

Uncle Andrew and Cousin Ned came in as 
Andrew ate. They seemed greatly excited. 
Uncle Abner was saying: “I tell you he'll be 
sorry if he tries to make me pay for that 
strawberry crop. I'll not pay, that’s all. Let 
him sue me if he wants to. It’s his fault.” 

42 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Mrs. Brown broke in: ‘‘What’s the matter, 
Abner? What are you so angry and excited 
about?” 

‘Oh, it’s our neighbor, Frank Jackson! The 
fence between our pasture and his had a bad 
place in it and that young colt of ours got 
through it. Their garden gate was open, and 
the colt got into the garden and trampled down 
his strawberries. He says he had a big crop 
and was ready to pick for the market, and the 
crop is ruined. I’ll have to pay for it. Why did- 
n’t he fix his old fence? I noticed it long ago.” 

Mrs. Brown spoke in soothing tones: “But, 
Abner, you know Mr. Jackson has been sick. 
You might have fixed any place in the fence 
that was so bad. Maybe he didn’t know how 
badly it needed fixing.”’ 

“Why should I fix his part of the fence? A 
man should watch his fences. That whole fence 
has been on the verge of going to pieces for 
a long time. But if he thinks I am going 
to pay for those strawberries, he is mistaken.”’ 

Mrs. Brown argued, but it did no good; she 
tried to soothe Mr. Brown’s anger, but he would 
not be soothed. After a time he and the son 
went out and about their regular tasks. 

“What will happen?” Andrew wondered. 
Every one had told him it would be slow and 

43 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





quiet in the country. But this was exciting. In 
the city, where many families lived in apart- 
ments, grown people often did not know their 
neighbors. The boys and girls played together. 
Sometimes they quarreled, but that was not so 
exciting as grown people’s quarrels. He had 
never witnessed a grown person having a quar- 
rel with his neighbor, and now he wondered 
what would come of it. 

Aunt Martha Brown did not want Andrew 
to hear anything more of the quarrel, for she 
felt very sorry about it all. She tried to keep 
everything quiet, but Andrew learned not long 
afterwards that Mr. Jackson had gone to court. 
The judge, however, had ruled that Mr. Brown 
need not pay for the crop. Mr. Jackson must 
bear the loss, because he should have had his 
fence fixed. Of course, the fact that Mr. Jack- 
son had been sick had no weight in court, even 
though Aunt Martha thought it should be con- 
sidered among neighbors. Mr. Brown was 
elated that he had won, but Aunt Martha felt 
sorry for the Jacksons. Besides losing the crop, 
Mr. Jackson had been ordered by the judge to 
build an entire new fence in that particular 
pasture. 

The next day Andrew, wandering about the 
farm, heard angry words in the pasture where 

44 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


the new fence was to be built. He hurried 
to the spot. Uncle Abner and Mr. Jackson 
were having a heated argument. Andrew came 
up to the men just as Uncle Abner was saying: 
“You know I don’t approve of those heavy, 
barbed-wire fences for pasture lots. Sometimes 
a colt might run against it and get hurt. If it 
were a short, light-weight barb, I wouldn’t mind 
so much, but I don’t like those long ones.”’ 

Mr. Jackson replied by telling Uncle Ab- 
ner ‘to mind his business. He'd put up the 
kind of fence he wanted to put up; one that 
would be sure to keep Mr. Brown’s colts off his 
place. 

There were more angry words, but Mr. 
Jackson went ahead with his fence, and Uncle 
Abner stamped off angrily toward the house, 
muttering as he went: ‘You'll be sorry for that 
fence yet, I can tell you.” 

Mrs. Brown tried to quiet her husband’s 
anger, to reason with him, but he refused to 
see where he was to blame for anything. 

A few mornings afterwards Andrew was 
again eating a late breakfast in his uncle’s 
kitchen, when his uncle and cousin entered. 
They were more excited than ever. Uncle 
Abner was saying: “I told him; I warned him. 
Let him take the consequences.” 

45 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


‘Abner! Abner!” cried his wife. ‘What is 
the matter now?” 

‘The matter? Well, he is paid for putting 
up that barbed-wire fence in the pasture. His 
sheep broke through another bad place in a 
fence farther up in another pasture. Our bars 
were down between pastures and the sheep 
came on through to the pasture where the 
barbed fence is. Ned saw them in our pas- 
ture and called to Collie to chase them out. 
When the dog went after them, the sheep, 
instead of running back in the direction from 
which they had come, ran straight for the 
barbed-wire fence. When Ned saw what they 
were doing he called off the dog and tried to 
head them toward the open gate into the next 
pasture. But three of them ran straight into 
the barbed-wire fence, tried to struggle through, 
and got badly mangled. Jackson heard the 
noise and came out to see what was going on. 
He was furious when he saw what had hap- 
pened.’ Of course, he blames jt jallvoniusiese 
Ned and I came along to the house and left him 
to get his sheep home.”’ 

‘Ned, Ned,” asked Mrs. Brown in dismay, 
‘“‘why did you send the dog after those sheep?” 

‘‘He wouldn't hurt them,” answered Ned, 
sullenly. “I just wanted to give them a scare.”’ 

46 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


‘But, Ned, you know how sheep are. They 
haven't any sense. It was a strange dog; of 
course, the sheep would be terribly frightened.” 

‘Well, he put the barbed-wire there,” an- 
swered Ned. 

Just then there was a thundering knock 
on the door. Aunt Martha opened it and Mr. 
Jackson strode in, white with anger. 

It was a beautiful day on the farm. ‘The 
sun was shining, flowers were blooming and 
sending out their perfume, birds were singing. 
All God’s creation was in tune, except these 
men, in whose hearts were anger and hate. 

‘Those three sheep are dead,” roared Mr. 
Jackson. ‘You'll pay for them. No court will 
let you out of that, and, besides, I'll swear out 
a warrant to have your dog shot as a sheep- 
killing dog.” 

‘He’s no sheep-killing dog, and you know 
it,’ answered Mr. Brown, angrily. ‘He didn’t 
touch one of those sheep. He only ran after 
them and barked. Your senseless sheep ran the 
wrong way. That’s not the dog’s fault. And, 
besides, I told you not to put up that kind of 
fence. I'll pay for your sheep, but you'll not 
touch that dog.”” Then Mr. Brown opened the 
door and said: “I'd be obliged to you if you'd 


9 


go. 
4 47 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Mr. Jackson passed out muttering to him- 
self. Andrew was getting uneasy about the 
quarrel; these grown-up people were keeping 
it going so long. Besides, Aunt Martha was 
crying, and that made Andrew more uneasy. 
She was saying something. He did not catch 
what it was, but he heard his uncle reply: 
“Don’t quote Scripture to me now. Scripture 
has nothing to do with this.” 

But his wife replied: “You are a Christian. 
The Bible commands have to do with every-day 
life, else what are they for?’ But Uncle Ab- 
ner went out and slammed the door. 

When Mr. Jackson reached home, he was 
still in a rage. He'd get even with Mr. Brown. 
It wouldn’t hurt him so much to have to pay 
for the sheep, but Mr. Jackson knew it would 
hurt him terribly to have his dog killed. The 
great, beautiful collie was the pride of Mr. 
Brown’s life. Mr. Jackson said to himself: “I'll 
declare he’s a sheep-killing dog, and there’s 
never any argument over shooting a _ sheep- 
killing dog.” 

Muttering vengeance, he came to his own 
yard and found things in commotion. ‘The chil- 
dren were crying, the hired man was running 
the machine out of the garage in great haste. 
When Mr. Jackson asked what the trouble was, 

48 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


they all tried to talk at once. He hurried into 
the house. He found that his fourteen-year-old 
daughter had dropped a teakettle of scalding 
water on her leg, burning it very badly from 
the knee down. She was suffering intense pain. 
The hired man was hastening for the doctor 
with all possible speed. 

The mother, with tears in her eyes, was try- 
ing to quiet the suffering girl. When she saw 
her husband, she said: ‘“The hired man has 
gone for the doctor, but I’ve just remembered 
that wonderful salve Mrs. Brown makes. I’d 
rather have that than all the doctors in the 
county. Hurry over there and ask for some, 
and I’ll have Dorothy out of pain before the 
doctor can get here.” 

“Go to Brown’s for salve? I guess not. 
Not if it were five times as magical to cure 
burns as people say it is, which I don’t believe.” 

“But, Frank, the child is suffering. I would 
not let a quarrel stand in the way of helping my 
own child, if I were you.” 

Mr. Jackson stood trying to decide. How 
could he go to the Browns after all that had 
happened! Maybe they wouldn’t let him have 
the salve anyway. He tried to persuade his 
wife that it was best to wait for the doctor; the 
salve was probably not so good as people said 

49 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


it was, he argued. He tried to justify himself 
for not wanting to go to the Browns’ house. 

In the midst of the argument a car came 
into the yard at high speed. The next minute 
some one was at the door. When Mr. and 
Mrs. Jackson looked up they saw Mrs. Brown 
standing in the doorway with a jar in her hand. 

They started to speak, but she waved aside 
their words. ‘“This is no time to talk; I must 
get that terrible wound dressed.” 

Quickly and with great cleverness she 
dressed the wound. The salve was indeed, as 
people claimed, almost magic. How cooling it 
was! Gradually Dorothy stopped her piteous 
crying and was quiet, the pain greatly relieved. 

Then Mrs. Brown turned to the anxious 
parents and said: “My young nephew, An- 
drew, was going out the gate when your man 
passed. He slowed down to tell the story hur- 
riedly and then raced on. Andrew came run- 
ning to the house with the news, and I snatched 
a jar of the salve from the shelf and ran out 
to get the machine. I met my husband and told 
him in a few words as I was jumping into the 
machine. He objected at first; said you would 
not want me. But I said: “What if it were 
our Ned or Andrew? Would we let a quarrel 
stand in the way of his being relieved? Then 

50 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


I started the machine and came as fast as I 
could.” 

Another machine now came speeding into 
the yard. The doctor jumped out and hurried 
into the house. When he saw Mrs. Brown 
he looked relieved. He knew about the won- 
derful salve she had made from a recipe handed 
down from her grandmother. He looked at the 
burned leg and examined the dressing. Then, 
turning to Mrs. Jackson, he said: “It’s a lucky 
thing you have a good neighbor and are on 
friendly terms. ‘The burn has been dressed 
as well as I could have done it, and there is 
nothing better than that salve.” 

The women looked at each other with tears 
in their eyes. Mr. Jackson silently offered his 
hand to Mrs. Brown, and then hurried out of 
the house and across the fields to the Browns’ 
house. He walked into the kitchen without 
knocking. Mr. Brown and Andrew were sitting 
by the table. Mr. Brown’s elbows were resting 
on the table and his head was in his hands. 
Neither was saying a word. 

Mr. Brown arose and looked at his neigh- 
bor, but did not speak. Mr. Jackson held out 
his hand: “I’m sorry for all that has happened. 
This quarrel should have been stopped before 
it began. I apologize for my part. When I 

51 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





saw your wife standing in the door, and 
watched her as she soothed the pain of my suf- 
fering child, doing good in the face of our 
quarrel, I came to my senses. I know now, for 
all time, that love is stronger than hate, and 
that ‘love worketh no ill to his neighbor,’ but 
only good. That’s the way I shall live with my 
neighbors hereafter.” 

Uncle Abner held out his hand and the two 
big men grasped hands in a powerful clasp. 
Then Mr. Jackson turned, saying huskily: “I 
must get back to the house; they may need me.”’ 

Andrew had watched the men with eager 
eyes. As Mr. Jackson went out the door, An- 
drew said: “Say, Uncle Abner, is everything 
off ?” 

“No,” said his uncle, ‘“‘everything is on 
again, I should rather say—common sense, 
Christian behavior and the royal law.” 

“What is the royal law?” asked Andrew. 

His uncle answered: ‘““That’s what your aunt 
| was quoting to me—'love thy neighbor as thy- 
self.’ The Bible calls that the royal law, and 
I’m going to keep that law after this as a 
Christian should. It’s been a bitter lesson, but 
I’ve learned it.” 

“The royal law,’’ Andrew said to himself. 
“T never heard it called that before.” But he 

52 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR © 


liked the sound of it. Then, too, he had de- 
cided he didn’t like quarrels. This one had 
made him very uncomfortable lately. Then he 
added aloud: “The royal law! I guess maybe 
that’s pretty good.” 


53 


VIII. 
TRUE HOSPITALITY. 


i the midst of the plains of Mamre, in the 
land of Canaan, was set up the camp of the 
shepherd chief, Abraham. 

Abraham was a great man, a friend of God, 
and the head of a tribe. Shepherds, herdsmen, 
servants and slaves were subject unto him. A 
vast number of tents stretched away from the 
more luxurious tent which sheltered the chief. 
Immense flocks and herds which belonged to 
him pastured on the broad plains. 

Abraham had great possessions, and his life 
was unusually peaceful for those days. Yet he 
desired something beyond all the things which 
were his. Sarah, his wife, was childless, and 
they were growing old, though God had made 
a covenant with Abraham, that he should have 
a multitude of descendants, and that all the 
land thereabout should be theirs. 

One day Abraham sat at the door of his 
tent. It was mid-day, the hour when the peo- 

54 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


ple in that far-off country sought rest and ref- 
uge from the heat of the sun. A hush was 
upon the plain, and Abraham doubtless was pon- 
dering in his mind the promise of God. As 
the sun.beat down upon the tents, Abraham 
thought of the cool night and the myriad stars, 
and there came to his heart again the words of 
God: “As countless as the stars in the heavens, 
so shall thy descendants be.’’ Abraham be- 
lieved God’s promise, but still there must have 
been the question: ‘“‘When shall this promise 
be fulfilled?” Oh, that it were even now near 
to fulfillment, was his unspoken prayer. 

As he pondered, he lifted up his eyes, and 
lo! three men were approaching. Immediately 
Abraham was alert, for they were strangers. 
Where they came from, he knew not. But they 
must be weary from the heat. 

Abraham might have called his servants and 
bidden them care for the strangers. But, no! 
With generous hospitality the great chief re- 
ceived them himself. Arising from his place, he 
ran to meet the strangers, and bowed low be- 
fore them, saying: 

“If I may find favor in thy sight, pass not 
by my dwelling, but abide here. Let water be 
fetched to wash your feet, and rest beneath 
this shady tree.” 

55 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Then Abraham hastened to Sarah, his wife, 
and, that honor might be done the strange 
guests, he bade her make with her own hands 
cakes for their refreshment. 

Then Abraham personally selected from his 
herd a young calf and gave it to a servant to 
prepare for eating. When all was ready, Abra- 
ham set before his guests the best meal which 
his camp could offer—milk and butter and the 
dressed meat and cakes. And he stood by them 
as they ate under the welcome shade of the 
big tree. 

When the strangers had finished and were 
rested and refreshed, it might be expected that 
they would thank Abraham for his hospitality 
and continue on their journey. But when one 
of them spoke, it was not to voice their thanks, 
but to ask: ‘Where is Sarah, thy wife?” 

Abraham must have been surprised. Where 
would a Hebrew woman be but in her own 
tent! But he did not show his surprise, and 
quietly answered: ‘‘My wife is in her tent.” 

Then one of the guests said: “Sarah shall 
have a son.’ 

Now, Sarah knew of the promise of God 
that Abraham’s descendants should be a great 
nation, but her faith was not so strong as her 
husband’s. So, when the man said, “Sarah shall 

56 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


have a son,’ she laughed to herself and said: 
‘How can such a thing be, seeing I am now 
grown so old?” 

Sarah did not speak the words aloud, but the 
strangers seemed to know even what she 
thought to herself, and one of them answered: 
‘‘Is anything too difficult for the Lord? Verily, 
at the time appointed, a short while hence, 
Sarah shall have a son.” 

Then Sarah, listening in her tent door, and 
Abraham, standing with the men under the 
tree, suddenly realized that these were divine 
messengers sent from God. And Abraham 
bowed low before them, glad in his heart 
that he had shown them the utmost honor and 
generosity of which he was capable. His hos- 
pitality had been bounteous. 

The three divine messengers blessed Abra- 
ham and turned to go on their way to the Jor- 
dan plain. But the old shepherd chief must 
needs walk with them a short distance, as was 
the custom in those days. When finally they 
parted, Abraham returned unto his tent to think 
over the wonderful words of the messengers, 
that God’s promise was about to be fulfilled. 
And it came to pass even as they had said, 
for unto Sarah was born in due time the son 
they named Isaac. 

57 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Abraham rejoiced greatly in his son. And 
from generation to generation until this day the 
story has been told of how Abraham, in en- 
tertaining three strangers, had entertained an- 
gels unawares. 


58 


IX, 
NO RESPECTER OF COLOR. 


Nise morning the chariot train proceeded 
southward through the desert. As they 
traveled, the man in the chariot unrolled a 
scroll and began to read. 

Who was he in the chariot? The chief man 
of that train was not a white man. He was 
dark of skin, and so were all his servants. But 
he was a man of high station and of great 
authority, nevertheless. 

His home was in Ethiopia, down in Africa. 
He was the guardian of the queen’s treasures, 
much trusted and respected by the people of 
his country. 

The scroll he was reading was the sacred 
Scriptures of the Jews—part of the Old Tes- 
tament. In his home far away from Jeru- 
salem he had come upon the Scriptures and 
believed in them and worshiped the true God. 

Occasionally he went up to Jerusalem to 
the temple to worship with others who be- 

59 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


lieved in the true God. He had just been 
there, and was returning to his home. 

As he read he came upon the words which 
had been written by a prophet of old: “He was 
led as a sheep to the slaughter; and as a lamb 
before his shearer is dumb, so he openeth not 
his mouth.” 

The Ethiopian pondered. Was the prophet 
speaking of himself or prophesying of another 
who should come? He wished he knew. He 
was wishing he had come across that passage 
while in Jerusalem, so he might have asked 
some one about it. Up there in that city he 
had heard vague rumors of one Jesus who, 
some claimed, had come in fulfillment of proph- 
ecy and whose life had been taken away. The 
Ethiopian had not put much faith in the re- 
port. [here were many prophecies of the 
coming of a Messiah. But if the prophet spoke 
in that passage of another than himself, per- 
haps the stories afloat in Jerusalem were true; 
they were strangely like the prophecy. 

While the heart of the Ethiopian was long- 
ing to know the truth, the voice of God, speak- 
ing in the heart of Philip, one of the apostles, 
said: “Arise, and go toward the south.” 

Philip arose and hastened into the desert. 
And, lo! after a time he saw the chariot in the 

60 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


desert, and the voice of God spoke again to 
his heart, saying: ‘‘Go near, and join thyself to 
this chariot.” 

Philip ran thither, and as he came near 
he heard the Ethiopian reading aloud the words 
of the prophecy, pondering them over and over. 

Philip did not hesitate or consider the color 
of the man’s skin. Here was one of God's 
children seeking to know the truth of God in 
all its fullness. And Philip was giving his life 
to that very cause. So he said to the Ethio- 
pian: “‘Understandest thou what thou readest?”’ 

The Ethiopian answered: ‘‘How can I, ex- 
cept some one shall guide me?” 

He halted the chariot and asked Philip to 
come up and sit with him. Again on the way, 
the Ethiopian asked of Philip the question he 
had asked himself earlier in the day: ‘Did the 
prophet of old speak of his own death in that 
passage or of another who should live after?” 

Then Philip began to speak to him of Jesus. 
Oh, with what wonderful eloquence he told of 
Jesus’ life and teachings; the love of the masses 
of the common people for the great Teacher; 
the scorn and hatred of the politicians and 
scribes and Pharisees. He told of the false ac- 
cusations, the mockery of a trial and the cru- 
cifixion. When he came to the story of the 

61 


4 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


resurrection his face shone with joy. ‘‘Jesus 
of Nazareth, this great Teacher, is not dead,’ 
he said, “‘but alive for ever more, and though 
ascended unto the Father in heaven, His Spirit 
still abides with His people.”’ 

The mid-day sun shone intolerably hot. 
They had come to a place of water and a few 
friendly trees. The Ethiopian gave the com- 
mand to halt. Then to Philip he said: “I would 
be a disciple of this Teacher. Here is water. 
What doth hinder me to be baptized?” 

Philip answered: “If thou believest with all 
thine heart, thou mayest.” 

The Ethiopian answered: “I believe that 
Jesus Christ is the Son of God.” 

So they both went down into the water, 
both Philip and the Ethiopian, ‘“‘and he bap- 
tized him.”’ Philip, the man of fair skin, bap- 
tized the Ethiopian, with the dark skin, into the 
new faith of Jesus Christ. This was the begin- 
ning of the spread of the gospel among all 
races and peoples of the earth, even as Jesus 
had commanded. 

When they came up out of the water, Philip 
went his way; and, after his men had rested and 
the day had grown cooler, the Ethiopian con- 
tinued his journey toward the south, filled with 
great rejoicing. 

62 


X, 
pepo LY AND TUS RICH ROR) ALLY 


4 eSaeae was a new boy in the sixth-grade 
class in school that morning. Now, a new 
pupil was not an unheard-of occurrence in the 
sixth grade in mid-term, but this was different. 
The teacher spoke especially about this new- 
comer: 

‘We have a new pupil in our class this morn- 
ing. His name is Rene LeFont. He has just 
come from France, and does not yet know our 
ways. Neither does he speak our language 
quite as we do. But we are glad to have 
him here, and every one will help, I know, to 
make him feel at home in this new land and 
in our school.”’ 

This happened before the World War, and 
American school children did not feel so well 
acquainted with France then as now. As Miss 
Green talked, each child mentally promised to 
do just as she asked, for all the children were 
very fond of that sixth-grade teacher. A min- 

5 63 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


ute later, however, the good resolve was for- 
gotten, and thirty pairs of eyes stared in 
surprise when, as Miss Green stopped speaking, 
the new boy acknowledged the introduction 
by arising in his seat and bowing first to the 
teacher and then to the pupils. He sat down 
again. Hands were quickly clapped over 
mouths to keep the giggles from escaping, but 
the effort was a failure. 

After that it was almost impossible for any 
young mind to concentrate on its task. Shy 
glances of curiosity were cast toward Rene 
whenever the teacher was not looking. Each 
child was saying to himself: “Oh, if Miss 
Green would only let him recite!” 

But Miss Green did not call on Rene in the 
first recitation nor in the second. ‘The last 
recitation before noon recess was reading. ‘The 
children were reading aloud a very interesting 
story. “Who would like to read to us this 
morning—some one who has not read yet this 
week?’ asked Miss Green. 

Half a dozen hands went up, and among 
them Rene’s. Miss Green called on one child 
after another to read. As each one finished 
up went the hands of those desiring to continue. 
Each time Rene, seeing the others raise their 
hands, did the same. 

64 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


It was near the end of the period. Miss 
Green could no longer ignore Rene’s hand, and 
she said kindly: “Do you wish to read this 
first day, Rene?”’ 

Rene arose and bowed to Miss Green. ‘Of 
a certainty, Mademoiselle. I make ze trial so 
well now as ze future. The story is, what you 
say in ze English, familiar. I read it very well, 
I theenk.”’ 

Thirty children drew breath sharply, but 
quickly checked their impulse to laugh as Miss 
Green looked sternly around the room. 

Rene proceeded with his reading. His 
pronunciation of many words was queer, his 
manner of reading strange indeed to the lis- 
teners. At last an especially foreign twist to 
a sentence overcame the children’s self-control. 
A titter escaped from one, and spread like a 
wave over the group; then ended with a loud 
laugh from Don Stone, the leader of all mis- 
chief in the sixth-grade room. 

Rene turned startled, amazed eyes upon the 
room, then, with a dignified bow to Miss Green, 
and a half-audible ‘‘Please to excuse,’ he sat 
down. 

Miss Green’s face flushed in embarrassment 
and annoyance. “I fail to see the reason for 
your amusement. Come to order instantly.” 

65 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


It was seldom that Miss Green spoke that 
way, and for a minute the children were awed. 
The next minute the bell rang, and with great 
relief Miss Green gave the signal for dismissal. 

The children went out in perfect order, but, 
once in the schoolyard, Don Stone slipped up 
behind Rene and pushed his hat forward over 
his eyes, saying in mocking tones, for all near 
to’ hear: “Of a certainty; please to excuse.” 

A group of six or eight boys surrounded 
Rene, and a chorus of voices took up all the 
strange foreign words they could remember in 
his reading. Rene tried to speak, but the boys 
drowned his words. Then Rene drew himself 
up to his full height, and, ignoring them as much 
as possible, he walked toward home. He could 
make but slow progress, for the boys kept him 
surrounded. No one attempted to strike him, 
but, as he walked, they pulled his coat, pelted 
him with their own caps and cried: “Frenchy, 
Frenchy, please to excuse.’’ | 

It was difficult for Rene to walk, to say — 
nothing of keeping control of his tongue and 
fists. But at last he reached his home, and 
with a gasp of relief shut the door upon his 
tormentors. 

A few of the girls had witnessed the attack 
in the schoolyard, and had followed afar off in 

66 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





indignant silence as the boys pursued the young 
French lad. When the boys turned to go their 
several ways, the girls cried: “For shame! for 
shame! How could you treat a stranger like 
that! We will never speak to you again.” 
The boys only called a disgusted “Oh, for- 
get it. Who cares?” Then they went their sev- 
eral ways home. But the fun was gone out of 
their escapade, and the fact that the girls had 
followed worried them a bit, as they remem- 
bered the look on Miss Green’s face and the 
tone of her voice. What if the girls should tell! 
In the afternoon the children were in their 
seats earlier than usual. This was the first fact 
that hinted to Miss Green that anything out of 
the ordinary was in the air. ‘Then she noted 
that some of the boys and girls kept glancing 
anxiously at Rene’s seat, which remained empty. 
The bell rang, and Rene had not appeared. 
There was a pronounced restlessness among the 
children as Miss Green looked around the room 
in marking her roll. ‘Then she arose and came 
close to the front row of desks, saying: ‘‘I won- 
der why Rene is not here this afternoon.” 
There was dead silence, except for an un- 
easy shifting of position on the part of a few. 
Then Miss Green asked again: ‘Does any one 
know why Rene is not here this afternoon?”’ 
67 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Silence again. Then Nancy Ardmore raised 
her hand. Several boys straightened to eager 
attention. 

Miss Green said: “Well, Nancy, can you 
tell us?” 

Nancy arose. “I’m not a telltale, and I am 
not going to tell anything, but I want to say 
something.” 

Miss Green said: “All right, Nancy, say 
on.” 

Nancy went to the front of the room and 
faced the children. Her face was ablaze with 
excitement. 

‘T think every one of us should be ashamed, 
and some more ashamed than others. I am not 
going to tell anything that happened after we 
left this room. But I told my father every- 
thing, and he thinks we have acted simply awful. 
He says that the French people are the politest 
people in the world. If one of us had been a 
strange pupil in one of their schools over in 
France, they would have strangled before they 
would have giggled out loud at our funny talk. 
And, besides, instead of making it worse after 
school if some had seemed amused, they would 
have apologized. 

‘We pretend to be good Americans, and we 
salute the flag and everything, and then we are 

68 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


a disgrace to our country and make our flag a 
falsehood about justice for all, and right before 
a French boy, too, so he will wish he had never 
Heardpof; America.)))oo there.’ 

Nancy finished with a vigorous nod of her 
curly head. The children sat so quiet it seemed as 
if they scarcely breathed. All of them knew what 
had happened in school. But not all of them 
knew the terrible thing that must have happened 
afterwards to put Nancy in such a temper. 

Every one liked Nancy. Even the boys 
respected her, because she could run as fast as 
any of them and play mumble-peg with the best. 
They did call her a little “‘spitfire’’ because of 
her excited way of talking sometimes, but her 
outbursts were always in a righteous cause and 
not usually for herself. 

Miss Green said not a word. The silence 
continued for a minute. Then Don Stone arose 
and said, rather belligerently: ‘“Well, what do 
you want us to do?” 

Nancy continued: “If I were in Rene’s 
place, I'd never come back to this school till the 
whole room apologized. I think we ought to 
write an apology and send it right off now.” 

Miss Green thought it best to let the chil- 
dren settle the affair, if they could, so she 
merely said: “‘Whatever you boys and girls 

69 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





want to do will be all right. Go ahead, Nancy, 
and do what is best.”’ 

The boys and girls worked and worked over 
an apology, until they had one they thought 
would do. ‘Three of the boys who had been 
the worst offenders at noon, led by Don Stone, 
volunteered to take the note that afternoon to 
Rene’s house. 

Miss Green gave permission for the boys to 
leave, and they started off on a run. Rene’s 
mother answered their ring. Three young boys 
snatched their caps from their heads, and, as 
Don handed the note to Mrs. LeFont, the boys 
all began to talk at once in their embarrassment 
and eagerness. It was not quite clear what 
they were saying, but the surprised woman 
caught something like this: “‘Say, we didn’t real- 
ize we were being so mean. We don’t want you 
to think American kids aren’t as good as French 
ones any day. If Rene will just forget it and 
come back, we'll try to act like good Amert- 
cans. Tell him we mean that, won’t you? We 
didn’t do the square thing.” 

The mother waved her hand in a little 
French gesture and smiled at the eager, flushed 
boys. She seemed to understand their feelings, 
and said: “Of a certainty. I'll tell Rene. I 
think he excuse.”’ 

70 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Donistammered:, Yes, yes; that’s) it)” /)Tell 
him to excuse.’’ And the boys stumbled down 
the steps and ran back to school. 

“What did he say?” asked Miss Green. 

‘‘We didn’t see him,’”’ Don answered. ‘But 
we saw his mother, and, say, she’s all right, she 
is. She said Rene would excuse us.”’ 

Nothing was said in class that afternoon. 
The next day when Rene entered the school- 
yard a dozen boys offered to play leapfrog with 
him or marbles or anything he wanted, and 
Don offered him his best agate. When the bell 
rang and the school met for morning assembly, 
the sixth grade could be heard above all the 
others when, in the salute to the flag, they came 
to the words, ‘with liberty and justice for all.” 


71 


XI. 
THE END OF THE FEUD. 


A YOUNG Kentucky mountaineer, rugged 
and straight, and ‘‘dead in earnest,’ was 
preaching the gospel in the rough shack that 
did duty as a schoolhouse and a church. 

Jim Brown had been brought up in those 
mountains. He had received what little school- 
ing the place offered, and then had trudged miles 
and miles to the little mission school where he 
could get more learning. In the mission school 
he had learned also about Jesus and His won- 
derful life and teachings. 

To this mountain settlement a preacher had 
formerly come but twice a year. Somehow 
the mountain people had never cared much 
for these preachers, and but few went to hear 
them. Jim, like most of his neighbors, had not 
thought much about religion until he went to 
the mission school. 

The new vision he received in the school 
fired him with enthusiasm. If his people only 

72 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


knew all the things Jesus had taught, how dif- 
ferent their lives would be. 

Now, Jim was back in his own community, 
teaching in the school on weekdays and preach- 
ing in the schoolhouse on Sundays. Because he 
was big and strong, he was able to control the 
rough young people who attended the school; 
and, because he was one of their own folk, the 
people went to hear him preach on Sundays. 

He had been back about two months. His 
heart was burning with one great message above 
all others. But that was a message he must 
lead up to gradually. Carefully he had prepared 
the way. The special message he wanted to 
give was Jesus’ teaching about love—not only 
love for friends and those one loved, but love 
for one’s enemies. First, he had told how God 
loved the world, and sent His Son; then how 
Jesus loved people so much that He forgot to 
take thought of His own life; and on this day 
he was ready to give them the great message 
he knew they needed so much. 

Bible in hand, Jim stood before the rough 
mountain folk and threw a thunderbolt into their 
midst. With eager intensity he was reading 
the words of Jesus: 

“Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou 
shalt love thy neighbor and hate thine enemy. 

73 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless 
them that curse you, do good to them that hate 
you, and pray for them that despitefully use you 
and persecute you.” 

Even without looking up, Jim could feel the 
hostility that took possession of the people. 
Faces hardened, eyes took on a sullen look. 
They did not like such teaching. There were 
feuds in those mountains—long and bitter— 
carried on from generation to generation until 
the original cause of the feud was forgotten. 
Family warred against family and killed each 
other for no reason except feud revenge. From 
father to son the hate was carried down. They 
had no patience with preaching about forgiving 
one’s enemies. For too many generations their 
minds had been turned into the channel of re- 
venge. 

Among those who listened that morning was 
young Frank Banning, about eighteen years of 
age. He gripped his hands until the knuckles 
showed white. He had always liked Jim 
Brown, but, if that was the sort of thing he 
was going to preach, Frank wanted nothing 
of him. 

In his memory, Frank was seeing his fa- 
ther brought home just a few months before, the 
victim of the quick trigger of Harry Jackson, 

74 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


a young fellow about Frank’s own age. Be- 
tween their families there had been a feud for 
generations. Frank’s father had shot Harry’s 
father about three years ago, and with deadly 
hate Harry had bided his time till he should be 
strong enough and sure enough of aim to drop 
his father’s slayer on sight. The time had come 
when Harry carried out his threat and brought 
death swift and sure to Frank’s father. 

Now there were only the two boys left— 
one in each family—to carry on the feud. 
Frank had sworn to give his mind to one thing 
only, and that was tracking down Harry Jack- 
son. 
All these things were running through 
Frank’s mind as the preacher read the words 
about forgiving one’s enemies, and then went on 
to plead with the people to follow Jesus’ teach- 
ings and live in peace. 

Frank had been much attracted by the sto- 
ries of Jesus which Jim had told from week 
to week. His boyish imagination had been 
stirred by the pictures of Jesus going about fol- 
lowed by crowds of people; the eager, listening 
folk by the shores of the blue lake as the great 
Teacher talked to them from the boat; and the 
sick and sorrowful crowding about Him and 
being healed by His touch and word. 

75 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





But this was something different. Jesus did 
not belong to a mountain family that had kept 
alive a feud for four generations. Easy enough 
it might be for Jesus to preach about forgiving 
His enemies. People followed Him, loved Him 
—He had no enemies. This was the way Frank 
was reasoning as Jim preached. 

But what was that the preacher was say- 
ing now? Frank came out of his dreaming and 
listened. Jim Brown was saying that all the 
people did not listen gladly. The religious 
leaders, the political leaders, followed Jesus 
that they might find occasion to trap Him, to 
get something they might use against Him. 
They could not find anything against Jesus, so 
they lied about Him; condemned Him with a 
sham trial; spat upon Him; beat Him; made 
Him suffer everything mean they could think to 
do; and finally they killed Him on the cross. 

The mind of the young lad had dropped 
his own troubles for a few moments. Why 
didn’t some of Jesus’ friends get even with 
those mockers and scoffers? Why didn’t they 
take up the fight? But now the preacher was 
answering Frank’s very thoughts. He was say- 
ing: ‘‘When they took Jesus prisoner in the gar- 
den, Peter had drawn his sword to fight, but 
Jesus rebuked him with the words: ‘Put up 

76 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


again thy sword into its place.’ And again, 
after all the beating and humiliation and suf- 
fering, even on the cross, Jesus prayed for His 
enemies, ‘Father, forgive them, for they know 
not what they do.’ ” 

Frank sat like one dazed. His eyes blazed. 
What did Jesus pray like that for? Why didn’t 
He call down the curses of Heaven on their 
heads? But the voice of Jim Brown, full of 
pleading, was saying: “In this way the world’s 
great Teacher showed forth in His own life 
the wonderful lesson of love and forgiveness 
He had taught His people—‘Love your ene- 
mies, do good to them which hate you, and pray 
for them which despitefully use you.’ Jesus 
Himself did that very thing.” 

After the benediction Frank stumbled out of 
the old schoolhouse and hurried off to the 
woods by himself. His thoughts were racing 
wildly. He was angry. It might be all right 
for Jesus, he thought; He could forgive those 
brutes if He wanted to. But as for himself, he 
had one aim in life—getting his man, avenging 
his family. The last man of the enemy family 
must be wiped out. 

In the days that followed, Frank’s mind was 
in constant confusion. Jim Brown’s voice fol- 
lowed him everywhere. He knew Jim had 

77 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





been thinking of him and others like him who 
were carrying on family feuds when he preached 
that sermon. ‘There would come to Frank over 
and over the picture of Jesus proving true to 
His own teachings and forgiving those who took 
from Him His life. But Frank would try to 
put the picture out of his mind. And, when not 
at work, he stalked the hills, gun in hand, look- 
ing for Harry Jackson. 

One day, after tramping the hills until he 
was tired, Frank sat down under a tree to 
rest, his gun lying across his knees. His mind 
was again fighting against the sermon Jim 
Brown had preached. He went over the same 
argument again and again, but he always came 
out at the same place—no matter what Jim 
Brown said, he must get his man. 

Suddenly he became aware that for several 
minutes he had heard the snapping of twigs and 
the sound of footsteps. He arose cautiously and 
peered through the thick bushes. His heart 
gave a mighty throb. Harry Jackson was only 
a few feet from him; he was bending down 
examining a trail; his gun lay on the ground 
several feet away; his back toward Frank. 

Frank grasped his gun, and with a mighty 
effort sprang through the bushes and stood be- 
tween Harry and his gun as it lay upon the 

78 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





ground. Harry turned like a flash and reached 
for his gun. Then he saw it was beyond his 
reach. Between him and it stood his enemy, 
gun leveled. Then Frank’s voice rang out: 
‘Stand up against that tree.” Harry knew he 
was helpless. Without a word he drew himself 
up against the tree. There was a look of baf- 
fled hate in his eyes, but he did not cringe. 

Frank looked at him over the barrel of his 
gun. ‘‘Now you-all are a-goin’ to take your 
medicine sure enough; and there won’t be none 
o’ you-uns to reckon with no more.” 

As the words passed Frank’s lips a queer 
feeling surged through him. It seemed as if 
he heard the voice of Preacher Jim repeating 
the words of Jesus, “Father, forgive them.”’ 
He tried to shake himself free of the feeling, 
but he could not. He seemed to see the moun- 
tainside thronged with listening people and the 
wonderful face of Jesus as He said, ‘“‘Love your 
enemies, do good to them that hate you,’ just 
as Preacher Jim had described it to them that 
Sunday. 

He shrugged his shoulders and muttered to 
himself: “I won’t have no more enemies when 
this one is gone, then I won’t hate no more.”’ 

But suddenly he saw, not an enemy, but just 
a young lad leaning against the tree, a young 

6 79 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


lad like himself, only eighteen, tall and strong, 
and the only man left in his family. He pic- 
tured himself against that tree, and thought 
how his mother and sisters would feel if they 
heard that the long feud ended with his own 
life. What had started it all, anyway? He had 
heard about it a great many times, but it had 
slipped his mind. 

Harry’s angry voice cut short his dream- 
ing. ‘‘What you-all waitin’ for? I can’t de- 
fend myself ’gainst that gun o’ yours an’ mine 
there in the road. I didn’t aim to let you git 
me like this. I’d’a’ got you-all first if you'd ’a’ 
been movin’ round. Why don’t you-all shoot 
and be done with it?” 

The sullen rage smoldering in his eyes gave 
way to surprise as Frank dropped his gun and 
said dully: 

‘T ain’t a-goin’ to shoot at all. You-all can 
go on about your business. Jim Brown’s been 
preachin’ over on our side of the hill about 
how Jesus said we shouldn’t git revenge on our 
enemies and shouldn’t hate them what hate us— 
and Jesus forgave them what killed Him—an’ I 
ain't a-goin’ to have no more fightin’. You-all 
can’t never shoot me now after this, cause I 
had you helpless and let you go. Take your 
gun an’ shoot squirrels and things to eat.” 

80 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Frank picked up Harry’s gun and handed it 
to him, then turned and went down the moun- 
tain on his own side without even looking back. 
He crashed through the bushes and out into the 
clearing, and made straight for the schoolhouse 
to find Jim Brown. He wanted to tell the 
preacher he was through with hate, and that 
the feud that had run through his family for 
four generations was off for good. 


81 


XII. 
DOROTHY’S DOLL. 


|B yasseedeene was ten. Until she was seven 
she had never known anything better than 
a garret for a home. She had never known 
what it meant to be warm in winter. She had 
never in all her young life felt the satisfaction 
of having all she wanted to eat. Her father 
and mother were not good people. Cold, hun- 
ger and angry blows had been her lot. 

One day Dorothy’s mother died. The fa- 
ther, caring nothing for his child, sent her to 
an orphanage. The word “orphanage” does 
not sound very pleasant to our ears, but oh, 
what a beautiful place it seemed to Dorothy! 
She was never really hungry any more, and 
she had plenty of clothes to keep her warm 
when the cold days came. ‘True, nobody gath- 
ered her into loving arms and comforted her 
when things went wrong. ‘The matron and 
teachers and nurses were very kind, but very, 
very busy with dozens and dozens of other 

82 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


children like Dorothy. But the child was grate- 
ful that there were no more blows from angry 
parents. 

A few days before Thanksgiving, a tall, 
lovely woman, with a bright-faced child about 
Dorothy’s age, came to the orphanage. They 
were dressed so beautifully that Dorothy fairly 
gasped with the wonder of them when she went 
into the room where they were. The mother 
was talking to the matron. The little girl was 
sitting in a low rocker with what Dorothy at 
first thought was a little baby in her arms. 

Shyly Dorothy crept closer, at first unob- 
served by the little stranger, who was singing 
softly to the bundle in her arms and rocking 
gently back and forth. As Dorothy watched, 
her heart began to beat so fast she put her 
hand over it as if to quiet it. She felt very 
much excited, though she did not understand 
why. 

The little stranger looked up and saw the 
shy, eager look in Dorothy’s face. She stopped 
rocking. 

‘Come and see my doll,” she cried gayly. 
“T got her last Christmas from my father and 
mother.”’ 

Dorothy went forward wonderingly. So 
this was not a baby, but a doll! But how dif- 

83 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


ferent it was from any doll Dorothy had ever 
seen! It was big, and had real hair, and 
dainty clothes, and, wonder of wonders! it 
would open and close its eyes whenever the 
little stranger set it up or laid it down. Dor- 
othy was entranced. 

‘May I hold it for just a minute?” she 
breathed. 

The little stranger handed Dorothy the doll. 
Dorothy hugged it close, as if she would never, 
never let it go. 

‘Oh, you beautiful, beautiful creature,” she 
whispered to the doll. “If you were mine, I 
should be the happiest person in the whole 
world.” 

‘“Didn’t you ever have a doll?” asked the 
little stranger, wonderingly. And then, as Dor- 
othy shook her head, she continued: “But maybe 
you'll get one this Christmas.” 

‘Oh, no,” said Dorothy. “I’d never get a 
doll. Some of the orphans have had people 
bring them dolls, but I don’t know any one who 
would bring me one. Anyway, no one here 
ever had a doll like this one. Why, it is per- 
fectly won-der-ful.” 

The mother, by this time having finished her 
conversation with the matron, came forward to 
take the little stranger away. Dorothy hugged 

84 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


the doll more tightly. How her heart ached 
at the thought of letting it go! The mother 
looked at Dorothy’s flushed, wistful face, and 
then at the bright, happy face of her own 
child. 

‘“‘Mother,”’ said the little stranger, earnestly, 
‘she says she never had a doll and she never 
saw one like this, and she has no one to give 
her one, and she hardly ever gets any presents 
of any kind either. Did you ever hear of any- 
thing so strange ?”’ | 

The mother laid her hand affectionately on 
her child’s shoulder. ‘‘Perhaps, dear, since you 
get so many presents, you might like to share 
with her. You have a number of dolls. Could 
you leave this one with her?” 

“Oh, mother,” cried the child, clasping her 
hands together, “she is one of my very best 
dolls. I named her Betsy after one of my dear 
chums.”’ 

The mother answered kindly: ‘She may be 
one of your very best, but you have others 
just as good. I am sure Betsy would be glad 
to have her namesake making some one very 
happy. But you must do as you think best.”’ 

The little girl was silent for a moment. 
She remembered her lovely home and the au- 
tomobile, and all her playthings, and her father 

85 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


and mother. Then she looked at Dorothy. 
Here was a little girl who had no mother, and 
she lived in this big place with dozens and doz- 
ens of children and nobody brought her pres- 
ents. A great feeling of love and sympathy 
came into her heart. ‘“‘I’ll do it, mother. She 
shall have my doll, ‘cause I’m so thankful to 
have so much.”’ 

She threw her arms around Dorothy and 
the doll, and kissed them both. Then she 
turned and hurried out of the room ahead 
of her mother, for, after all, it was hard to 
leave Betsy behind. 

Dorothy stood for a minute holding the 
precious bundle close, scarcely able to realize 
this wonderful miracle that had happened. All 
the pent-up love of her starved heart went out 
to the lovely doll in her arms. Then, as she 
realized that it truly belonged to her, she buried 
her face in the folds of its dainty dress, and, 
dropping into the rocker, swayed back and 
forth in an ecstasy of joy. Aloud she said: 
‘You blessed, blessed doll. How I shall love 
you, love you, love you.” Then she paused for 
a moment and added slowly: “And I'll let the 
other girls take turns holding you sometimes, 
too, for none of them ever saw such a wonder- 
ful, wonderful doll as you.” 

86 


xabdL 
BECAUSE OF JOHN. 


OHN’S thoughts so often went back to his 

big, strong father. He remembered his 
father more clearly, perhaps, than most boys 
would remember a father dead several years. 
There were two reasons for this. 

After his father’s death, John’s home was 
broken up. There was no money to take care 
of John, so he had been sent to an orphanage 
out in the country. But it was good to have 
a place to go, even if it was an orphanage. 
But it would be much easier, John often 
thought, to live there if he did not have to 
stay inside so much, but could roam in the 
great open spaces. 

John was frail and sickly, and had a bad 
spine. He was slightly hunchbacked, and one 
leg was shorter than the other. He could not 
run and play like the other boys. He could 
not read very much, either, for it strained his 
eyes. Hour after hour he was obliged to sit 

87 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


in the big sun parlor for rest and a sunning, 
while the other boys romped and played. Then 
he would think and think of how his big father 
used to carry him in his strong arms when his 
back hurt and would read to him when his 
eyes were tired. 

But all that was past. There was no one to 
carry him now, and it was only occasionally 
that some one had time to wheel him around 
in his wheel-chair. John’s mother was still 
living, but she could only visit him occasion- 
ally. When she came she read to him, and 
sometimes the boys read to him or talked to 
him. But there were many lonely hours when 
the other boys went on hikes or to church, and 
John did not even have them to watch as they 
played, and he could do nothing but sit with 
folded hands and dream. 

One day some boys from the town came out 
to visit the orphanage. It was a Sunday-school 
class of real boys. They had hikes and went 
together to visit all sorts of interesting places. 
Their teacher was interested in the orphanage, 
and after he had told the boys some stories 
of the orphanage children, they were eager 
to go. 

The visiting boys played games with the 
orphanage boys in the great yard until near 

88 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


dusk. ‘Then they went inside. From his chair 
in the sun-parlor, John had watched the boys 
at their play. It was interesting to see new 
boys. It gave John a touch of the world out- 
side. He almost forgot his short leg and bad 
spine. There was such a look of pleasure on his 
face when the visiting boys trooped into the 
sun-parlor, that they did not notice at first that 
John was different or sat in a wheel-chair. 

One of the visiting boys spied John as he 
came through the door and called out: “Hey, 
you, why didn’t you come out and play? Had 
to stay in as punishment for being bad?” 

The light died out of John’s face for a min- 
ute. One of the orphanage boys caught the 
visitor by the collar and whispered into his 
eaccim Etisi |ihe’'s) Jame. .Gan:t you: see? Ele 
can’t play.” 

The visiting boy was abashed at his thought- 
lessness. But John understood, and, wanting 
to help the boy out of his embarrassment, ex- 
erted all his will power to bring back the look 
of eager enjoyment to his face. 

‘That was a fine game of ball you fellows 
played,” he said. “It seems good to see new 
faces on the playground.” 

Then the boys all began talking at once, 
drifting about the room in groups, but Donald 

89 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Andrews, the visiting boy who had spoken 
thoughtlessly, sat down beside John, and, in 
a fumbling, boyish way, tried to apologize for 
what he had said, but John broke in: 

‘Don’t bother about that. I know you 
didn’t mean anything. You see, I have always 
been lame, and I’m used to it.” 

Donald was silent a minute, then he said: 
‘Say, you must have lots of time to read, 
don’t you? That’s one thing you get out of 
being lame. My mother will never let me read 
very long at a time, and I just love to read. 
She always makes me go out to play. Says it’s 
not good for a fellow to be quiet so much; he 
ought to exercisé. But, say, I’d rather read 
any day.’’ 

John shook his head. ‘Mostly I don’t read. 
You see, my eyes are not strong, and after I 
have done my studies, they are too tired to read 
much.«’ I.\can' only) read*/a wittle vate aries 

‘What do you do then?” asked Donald. 

“Oh, nothing much,” said John. ‘Some- 
times I watch the boys when they play in the 
yard. But often they go on hikes. Then in 
the early evening they like to read, and often 
I sit for hours with nothing to do but think. 
Oh, the boys try to be good to me—often go 
out of their way to make it pleasant for me, 

90 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


and sometimes put down their books to talk 
to me or read out loud. But, of course, they 
can’t remember about me all the time.” 

Donald thought a moment. Then he looked 
around and said: “Don’t you people have a 
radio?” 

John’s eyes shone. “No,’’ he said. “I have 
heard people talk about radios, but I don’t quite 
see how any one could just sit here and hear 
people far off sing and play and talk. My! if 
we had one, it would fill up many hours that 
seem so long now.” 

Just then the leader of the visiting boys 
called out that it was time to go, and the boys 
all crowded to the door calling good-by as they 
went. Donald laid his hand on John’s shoulder 
and said: ‘“‘I’ll see you again some time.” 

On the way home Donald talked about 
John, and the boys were interested. When 
the class had its next meeting, Donald spoke 
of John again and said: 

“Say, fellows, John sure ought to have a 
radio. Why can’t we make one for the orphan- 
age and save our money to buy a loud speaker? 
It won’t be much work or cost much. What 
do you say?” 

The boys were enthusiastic. They worked 
and saved from their allowances, going without 

91 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





ice-cream cones and walking instead of taking 
street-cars. At last the radio was complete 
and the loud speaker bought. Donald and sev- 
eral of the boys went out to the orphanage to 
install it. 

What a commotion there was among the 
boys at the orphanage when the news spread! 
They all crowded into the sun-parlor, and when 
the installation was complete, and they tuned in 
on a station broadcasting an early evening pro- 
gram, the boys fairly went wild. 

John’s face was shining. He was too ex- 
cited for words. There would be no more 
lonely hours. When the boys were at church, 
he could listen to a service. When the boys 
went on hikes or read in the evening and his 
eyes were tired, he could listen in on music 
and speeches. He would not be just a lonely 
boy in a wheel-chair out in the country, with 
hands folded, thinking, thinking. He would be 
an eager boy in touch with the great world 
outside. 

There were so many thanks fairly shouted 
by lusty boy voices that the visiting boys were 
overwhelmed. But they felt more than repaid 
for the work and sacrifice by the quiet ‘“Thanks, 
fellows,’ from John and by the shining happi- 
ness of his eyes. 

92 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


When the visitors were gone, the boys gath- 
ered around John, and one of them said rather 
hesitatingly: “Seems as if we have never been 
able to do much for you, or give you many 
good times, and now, because we have helped 
you to have a good time, we are having more 
fun ourselves,” 


93 


XIV. 
THE STATUE IN A CALICO DRESS: 


[* the public square of a great city stands the 
statue of a woman in a calico dress. We 
can imagine a statue of a beautiful goddess 
which some artist fashioned out of his imagina- 
tion; maybe we have seen statues of famous 
women well dressed. But this woman was nei- 
ther beautiful nor famous outside her own city. 
And yet there is her statue in marble on a great 
pedestal. She is sitting, and at her side, leaning 
against her and looking levingly up at her, is 
the figure of a little child. 

This is the statue of Margaret Haughery, 
and the monument is in a great square in the 
city of New Orleans. It was the first public 
monument ever erected in America to a woman. 
All the dignified Government officials of the 
State, a vast number of men and women, and a 
thousand orphan children were present when 
the statue was unVeiled, and the people of the 
city looked upon it as a general holiday. 

94 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


How did it all come about? It was this 
way. Margaret Haughery was born in Ireland, 
and came to America, to the city of Baltimore, 
with her parents. There was a yellow-fever 
epidemic. Her parents both died, and she was 
left an orphan. A kind-hearted family took her 
and reared her. She lived with them until she 
was married. With her husband, she then 
moved to New Orleans. But misfortune again 
befell her. Her husband died, and later her 
only child died too. Margaret was alone once 
more. But now she was a grown woman and 
must look out for herself. She had no money, 
so became a laundress in a hotel. 

As she worked day after day, she used to 
say to herself: ““There are many orphan chil- 
dren in this city, I know. Many of them will 
never be so fortunate as I was. Nobody will 
ever take them into their homes. They will live 
all their childhood days in orphanages. There 
must be an orphanage somewhere near, and | 
am going to find it. I am sure there is some- 
thing I can do to make the lives of the children 
who live there happier. It can’t be much, but 
I'll do what I can.” 

Sure. enough, she found an orphanage not 
far away. And she found, too, that those who 
had charge of the orphanage were having a 

7 95 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


terrible struggle to keep it running and give the 
children enough to eat. 

When Margaret said to the woman in 
charge, ‘I want to help. Will you accept what 
little I can do?” the woman somehow felt she ~ 
had found a good friend. Why she should feel 
that way she did not know, for Margaret was 
dressed so plainly the woman must have known 
she did not have much money. And,~besides, 
Margaret-did-not say just in what way she was 
going. to help. But the woman’s heart was 
lighter. 

Margaret went back to the hotel where she 
worked and sat down to think. Her wages 
were too small to do much. What could she 
do? She thought and thought. You could 
never guess what she decided upon. 

Well, this was what she decided she would 
do. She had saved a little money, and she 
bought two cows! She milked the cows night 
and morning and sold the milk to the orphan- 
age at cost. She worked up a milk route and 
gave most of her profits to the orphanage. 
The rest of the profits she saved until she had 
enough money to buy another cow. ‘Thenshe 
had more profits for-the-orphanage. Winter 
and summer she delivered milk, thinking all the 
time of the children. Having the children in 
96 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


mind so constantly, she talked to her customers 
about them and the customers gave her clothing 
for which they had no further need, and often- 
times they gave her food. 

_ If Margaret had stayed in the laundry 
business at the hotel, working and thinking only 
of herself, she probably would have been poor 
all her life. But in this new business which 
she started for the sake of the children of the 
orphanage, she prospered. She never knew just 
how it happened, but she soon had enough money 
to buy more cows; and she made more money 
and kept on buying cows until she had quite a 
dairy and was making money fast. And all 
the time she kept giving more and more money 
to the orphanage and to needy ones all around. 
Then she opened a bakery. 

She adopted other orphanages, and she 
gave them ail milk and bakery goods at cost. 
But, no matter how much she gave away, she 
always seemed to be making more and more 
money. Her business grew so that she became 
quite wealthy. Gradually the people of the city 
came to know about her, for, besides furnishing 
milk and bakery goods to the orphanages at 
cost, and giving generously of her money to 
them, she began to give to other charities that 
helped children. 

97 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





Not only did she give her money, but she 
gave her love to the, children. She came to 
know hundreds of them personally, and they 
adored her. She never spent her money on 
herself, even when she made a great deal of it. 
She could have had a beautiful home and have 
worn lovely clothes and jewels. She always 
lived very simply and wore the very plainest 
clothes. She might be seen in any part of the 
city, at almost any time of day or night, with 
a face alight with love and joy, going about on 
her errands of mercy. Her one thought was 
to help the children of the poor and the needy 
and those who had no one else to care for them. 

When she died the newspapers bordered 
their pages with black as if they were in mourn- 
ing for some great public official. And the 
thousands of people who knew of her wonder- 
ful life attended the funeral and paid her loy- 
ing tribute. 

The city can never forget her, for every one 
who walks in that public square will look upon 
her, dressed in simple calico as she dressed in 
life, and be reminded of how Margaret Haugh- 
ery helped God make the world happier. 


98 


XV. 
THE LACE-MAKERS. 


[NSE family were of the best of 
the Armenian race. For years they had 
lived among their orchards and vineyards in 
Asiatic Turkey. ‘They lived in peace and pros- 
perity until Azadouhi was twelve years old. 
Then one day war came. Their town was 
attacked. The Armenian forces were not strong 
enough to resist their enemies and all their men 
were killed. [he women and children were 
driven from their homes. 

For a long time Azadouhi and her mother 
wandered in the desert; they had no shelter; 
they had no food. At last the mother died. 
Azadouhi, hungry, ragged and almost starved, 
was picked up by some American Relief workers 
and carried into an orphanage. She was care- 
fully nursed and at last grew well and strong 
again. 

In Azadouhi’s heart was a passionate devo- 
tion to the Relief workers and love for the 
99 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





American people for their kindness in establish- 
ing and keeping the orphanage. When she 
was well enough to learn to work with her 
hands in the industrial shop, she was one of the 
most eager little needle-workers among the hun- 
dreds of children in the orphanage. She made 
beautiful laces. How carefully and lovingly 
every stitch was made, so that the lace might 
be beautiful enough to sell and the money go 
into the treasury of the orphanage. She did not 
realize how many thousands of dollars it took 
to feed so many orphans, but she knew it must 
be a great many, and she wanted to help. 
Then one day the rations were cut down. 
The Relief workers explained that not so much 
money had been coming from America, and 
they would have to make that little go as far 
as possible. ‘The children did not complain 
because of not having so much to eat. But that 
day, when they went into the shops, some of 
them could not work. There was no ma- 
terial to work with. It takes thread to make 
laces, and, since there was scarcely enough 
money to buy food, they could not buy thread. 
The girls were keenly disappointed. They 
loved to make laces; and, besides, now they 
could not help! Azadouhi seemed especially 
downcast. She wanted to work. She wanted to 
100 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





help the orphanage by earning money.  Dis- 
consolately she wandered about during the hours 
she was free from study. Then a group got 
together to play. While they were playing, 
Azadouhi fell and got an ugly, long cut on 
her arm. A Relief worker hurried to her and 
took her to the hospital to have the arm 
dressed. Half an hour later a very quiet little 
Azadouhi was seen walking around with her 
arm bandaged from wrist to elbow. She had 
been ordered not to play any more that day. 
Things were not going well at all. 

In the afternoon, with a book to read, 
Azadouhi sat by herself. But she could not 
read. She was bemoaning the fact that she 
could not work at her beloved laces. ‘There 
was noeturead. ‘Then her eyes’ fellijon, her 
bandages. A thought shot through her mind. 
There was plenty of thread in the bandages. 
Why did all that thread have to be in a ban- 
dage when she wanted it so much for her laces? 
As she looked at the bandage, her eyes grew 
wide and another thought began to take shape 
in her mind. The next minute Azadouhi quietly 
slipped into the lace-shop. 

Several of the other girls had seen Azadouhi 
slip into the shop, and they wondered. They 
followed her. They saw her sitting by the 

101 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


window, needle and thread in hand, making 
lace. They were filled with amazement. 

‘““Where did you get the thread?” they 
asked eagerly. 

Azadouhi did not answer. She simply went 
on working. 

The children looked at her inquiringly for 
a minute, and then exclaimed in chorus: ‘Oh! 
Oh! What will the nurse say?” 

“T can’t help it,” said Azadouhi. “I must 
make the lace so we can sell it and have more 
money for the orphanage. The Americans are 
giving us money all the time; we mustn’t stop 
earning what we can.’’ 

The other girls looked at each other. It 
seemed almost as if they all had one idea at 
the same moment, and each girl knew what 
the other one was thinking about. Quietly they 
went out. One said: “Oh! let me be first!” 

During the afternoon four little girls went, 
one after another, into the hospital to have 
their arms bandaged for scratches that looked 
very much alike. The nurse was worried. She 
thought she would better investigate. What 
were the children doing that so many got ugly 
scratches? She went out onto the playground, 
but could see nothing of any little girls with 
bandaged arms. Where could they be? 

102 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


The nurse spoke to another Relief worker 
and they started in search of the girls with 
bandages. Here and there they looked. At 
last they came to the shop where the lacemakers 
worked. The nurse said, “They won't be in 
here, for there are no materials to work with 
to-day.” But the other one said, “Let us look 
inside anyway.” 

When they stepped inside, there were five 
girls sitting in a circle working away with all 
their might. The nurse looked at the Relief 
worker. ‘Did some thread come?” she asked. 

The Relief worker shook her head. ‘Not 
that I have heard. I wonder where they got 
the thread.” 

Then the nurse’s eyes fell upon the bare 
arms with the long, red scratches revealed. 
“Children! children! Why did you take off 
those bandages? Where are they?” 

Then, as the children dropped their heads, 
the nurse picked up a handful of threads from 
the lap of one and at once recognized them as 
being the same kind of thread of which the 
bandages were made. 

“Did you unravel those bandages?’ she 
asked. Five heads swung slowly back and 
forth, indicating “Yes.” ‘The nurse’s eyes filled 
with tears. ‘‘Why did you do it? Don’t you 

103 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


know your arms may get infected? How did 
you all get such terrible scratches, anyway?” 

One girl spoke: ‘‘Azadouhi got hurt acci- 
dentally, and she thought of unraveling the 
bandage. When we saw her making lace from 
the ravelings, we took a sharp stone and 
scratched our arms on purpose, so we could 
have bandages to unravel. Oh, we unraveled 
them so carefully we scarcely broke a thread.” 

The nurse seemed dazed. “You made 
those awful scratches on purpose? Children, 
children, why did you do it?” 

Azadouhi spoke eagerly: “But, nurse, we 
must go on making the laces. We must help 
the American people to pay for the expense of 
the orphanage. ‘They are doing so much.” 

The Relief worker looked at the nurse. 
Doing’ so’ much |7~she \ said." Ohya ih itthey. 
only knew the grateful hearts of these little 
lacemakers, they would surely do more.” 

The nurse’s voice was soft and trembling as 
she spoke to the children: “You four should not 
have scratched your arms on purpose, and none 
of you should have taken off the bandages. It 
was too great a risk. But, oh, my dears, it 
was a beautiful, helpful spirit that prompted 
you. Come, we will put fresh bandages on, and 
this time you must not take them off. God will 

104 


a oe 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





surely put it into the hearts of good people to 
send more money in a few days so we can buy 
plenty of the right kind of thread. Ravelings 
are not good enough for such earnest little 
lacemakers as you.’’ 





This story is built around an incident which the writer 
heard recited in public address by Mrs. Jeannette W. 
Emrich. Mrs. Emrich was a Relief worker in the Near 
East, and intimately acquainted with the orphanage children. 
The incident is used in this story with Mrs. Emrich’s 
permission. 


105 


XVI. 
THE LIGHT (ON THE BLUFE- 


{| Baus sun was going down like a blazing, 
golden ball, as the fishermen put out to 
sea. They planned to fish all night, as they 
often did, but, after the sun had disappeared 
and the darkness came on, a terrible storm 
arose. The sky grew intensely black, and the 
wind blew a gale. ‘The waves tossed the two 
fishing-boats about until the fishermen knew 
not where they were nor whether they should 
ever reach shore again. 

There was a great rock along that coast that 
jutted far out into the sea. A sharp, dangerous 
rock it was, and no fishing-boat could dash 
against it and hold together. On nights of 
storm, the fishermen had one great fear—the 
rock. If they could keep away from that! 
They held fast to their courage and battled the 
storm with stout hearts. 

Several times ships had been dashed to 
pieces against that rock, for there was at that 

106 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


time no lighthouse there. In a terrible storm 
one night Jane Allen’s father’s boat had struck, 
and when the fishermen made shore next morn- 
ing, his boat and the men who had manned 
it were missing. Jane was left alone. 

Day after day she toiled at her spinning- 
wheel to earn enough to care for herself, and 
often, as she looked out to sea, she thought 
of the rock and wished there were a light there, 
so that no other girl’s father might lose his life 
as her father had. All this happened long 
before there were so many lights as now. 

This night, as the storm arose, Jane stood 
by the window and peered out. She could see 
nothing but blackness. But she could hear the 
wind howling and the breaking of the waves 
as they dashed against the great rock. Her 
cottage was on a bluff, and the rock jutted out 
from that very bluff. For a long time Jane 
stood, forehead against the window pane, her 
eyes vainly trying to pierce the dense darkness. 
She thought of the men out in that wild night, 
not knowing which way to direct their boats. 

Then the idea came to her. Why not 
make her house a lighthouse! It was high 
enough so that the light could be seen a long 
way off, and all the fishermen knew that the 
dangerous rock reached out from that bluff. 

107 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


She hurriedly lighted a candle and placed 
it in the window. But it was only a flickering 
light, she thought, and would not carry far. 
Then she added another candle and still others, 
until she had a dozen, which, placed close to- 
gether, seemed like one big light. This light 
she knew would shine out at least beyond the 
dangerous rock. Hour after hour she stood 
there and tended the candles, trimming them 
from time to time, so as to keep the flame 
bright. 

Out in the angry sea the fishing-boats tossed, 
and the fishermen prayed one prayer: that they 
might be kept out of the way of the jagged 
rock). “Suddenly 'a.-man/’cried:) A jiightlwes 
light!” Then, making a megaphone of his 
hands, he shouted to the men in the other boat: 
meee, alight! AC liohtl 

As the wind beat about them and the waves 
dashed against their boats, they tried to make 
out the meaning of the light. Where were 
they? ‘They knew of no light thereabouts. But 
as the light glowed through the dark, dim to 
be sure, but steady, they gradually began to 
understand, and said to one another: ‘“The 
light must come from a house on shore. Some 
one is sending us a warning signal. ‘There is 
but one point of land so high, and that is the 

108 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Allen house on the bluff above the rock. It 
must be Jane’s light.” 

If that were true, they knew the rock was 
below, stretching its dangerous arm out into 
the sea. It surely must be that Jane was trying 
to warn them off the rock. Oh, if the light 
would stay, they would know how to guide 
their boats so as not to be dashed to pieces. 
They could struggle with the storm, if only 
they could keep clear of the rock. Would the 
light stay until the storm ceased? Or would 
it go out after awhile and leave them in doubt 
and danger again? 

The hours passed, but the light still glowed 
dimly through the darkness. A faithful girl 
tended it through the long night. The fisher- 
men fought the waves, but their hearts sang. 
They knew now where the rock lay, and slowly 
but surely they fought their way from it. 

Gradually the storm died down, the early 
morning dawned, and the fishermen made safe 
landing. Tired though they were from the 
toil and peril of the night, they made their 
way at once up the bluff to Jane’s house to 
thank her for the thoughtfulness and devotion 
that had saved their lives. 

As Jane listened to their words of thanks 
and praise, a resolution formed in her mind— 

109 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


she would keep the light always when a storm 
was on. She would have a lighthouse of her 
own, that no more fishermen caught in a storm 
might be cast upon the rock. 

Jane was poor, oh, so poor. The cost of 
the candles would mean much sacrifice. But 
she worked longer hours at her spinning-wheel. 
When she had spun enough to buy her food, 
she would always spin some more to buy the 
candles that would be needed to light boats out 
at sea and keep them off the treacherous rock 
when a storm came. 

When her sacrifice and devotion were 
brought to the notice of Government officials, 
they were so impressed that they gave her a 
medal of honor, and established a real light- 
house on the bluff, 


110 


XVII. 
A BOY SCOUT KEEPS FAITH. 


ALT!” rang out a clear voice. 

Two lines of Boy Scouts came to a 
standstill. 

‘That's pretty good marching for raw re- 
cruits. You'll do in time. Now, all together, 
the Scout Oath.”’ 

Fifteen lusty fellows stood at attention, and 
repeated in unison: “On my honor I will do 
my best to do my duty to God and to my coun- 
try, and to obey the Scout law; to help other 
people at all times; to keep myself physically 
strong, mentally awake and morally straight.” 

Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? But this scene 
took place on the other side of the world, in 
aucitveomeansiatic Lurkey, (back in) 1914. “Uhe 
Scoutmaster was very young, but little older 
than the boys he drilled. He was the son of 
an American missionary, and the Scouts were 
Armenian students at the mission school. They 
were enthusiastic Scouts and worked hard to 

8 111 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


become expert in first aid and to keep the 
Scout law. 

In that city of fifty thousand people, three- 
fifths were Armenians. ‘Though only two-fifths 
were Turks, the government was in their hands. 
The Turks hated the Armenians for two rea- 
sons. They were thrifty and prosperous, and 
they were Christians. 

The day on which this story begins, one 
boy was absent from drill—Mutras, the son of 
a prominent Armenian citizen of the town. 
Mutras was absent without permission, and 
without sending an excuse. That was con- 
trary to their laws. Ordinarily, it would mean 
a penalty, but you will learn why Mutras’ pen- 
alty was never paid. 

As the boys were about to separate after 
drill, Mutras came hurrying toward them. He 
was breathless from running. 

‘“The town is all excited,” he gasped. ‘‘Our 
people have refused to give more men for 
the Turkish army. ‘Those who entered on the 
former call have been half-starved and set to 
digging ditches. They are not really soldiers 
at all, for the Turks have taken their weapons 
away from them.” 

The boys crowded around Mutras. ‘Will 
there be trouble between the Armenians and 

112 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


the Turks if our men do not enlist in the Turk- 
ish army?” half a dozen voices asked at once. 

“Father says we Armenians must not fight 
the Turks, but no more Armenians will go into 
the Turkish army if they are treated as those 
who have already joined are treated. It isn't 
wrong to refuse to be beaten and starved. And 
anyway, the Armenians don’t want to fight 
against the Allies.” He finished in a burst of 
indignant wrath. 

The next day word went forth from Turk- 
ish officials that three thousand Armenians must 
join the Turkish army at once, or they would 
be counted as traitors to the Government. The 
Armenians were so desirous of keeping peace 
that they at last agreed to furnish the men. 
But before the men were enlisted, three Ar- 
menians, prominent in the city, were treacher- 
ously slain by the Turks when they went to the 
Turkish officials to talk the matter over. 

This treachery made the Armenians change 
their minds. They said four hundred men 
would enlist, and they would pay exemption 
taxes for the rest, and that was all they 
could do. 

The Turkish Governor-General refused to 
accept the compromise, and threatened the Ar- 
menians with severe and immediate punishment. 

113 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





The Armenians did not have any arms, so all 
they could do to defend themselves was to 
gather together in one section of the town, 
barricade their houses and build such entrench- 
ments as they could. 

The Turkish soldiers fired on them. The 
Armenians were poorly prepared for defense, 
but they were strong in heart, and withstood 
the Turkish fire for many days. 

The Turks demanded that the Armenian stu- 
dents in the missionary school be sent to their 
people. Then the Turkish Governor-General 
notified the missionary people that no Ar- 
menians should be received in the missionary 
compound; the missionaries must not help 
the Armenians in any way, or the Turks would 
open fire on them too. 

Now was the time for the Boy Scouts to 
prove themselves. Cut off from the missionary 
compound, they had no Scoutmaster. But 
Mutras called his fifteen comrades together and 
assumed command. ‘There in their barricaded 
quarters, under the shadow of the Turkish gar- 
rison on a near-by hill, the boys again repeated 
their Scout oath. But there was more real 
meaning in the well-known words now. ‘Their 
young hearts were hot with indignation at Turk- 
ish injustice, and they knew there would be 

114 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


plenty of work to do, for there was no doctor 
in that Armenian garrison. 

Mutras proved to be a good leader. Under 
his guidance those Armenian Scouts played a 
heroic part. All they had ever learned in first- 
aid had to be put into practice now. They kept 
the barricaded quarters clean; carried the 
wounded on stretchers; took care of the sick and 
distributed supplies. 

Up in the missionary compound the Ameri- 
can missionaries were thinking constantly of 
their Armenian friends. Word reached them 
that there was no doctor with the Armenians, 
and many were sick. One of the missionary 
doctors said: ‘“Turkish orders or no orders, I 
am going to the help of those Armenians.” 

When the Turks discovered that an Ameri- 
can doctor had dared to disobey their orders, 
they were infuriated and opened fire on the mis- 
sionary compound. Several missionaries were 
killed. ‘Then one day the Turks stopped firing 
and gave orders that all the Armenians and the 
American missionaries were to leave the town 
at once. The Turks refused to discuss the mat- 
ter or make any compromise—all Armenians and 
American missionaries must go. But where 
could they go? ‘They had no ammunition to 
defend themselves; their supplies were gone. 

115 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





They fled to the mountains. They gathered 
what they had at hand, and young and old, sick 
and well started on that terrible march. In 
less than two days the town was empty of Ar- 
menians and Americans. 

The days that followed were nightmares 
of horror for the fugitives. The mountain 
road was rough and there were numerous riv- 
ers to ford. One day, while passing through a 
narrow valley, the defenseless refugees were 
fired upon by Kurds from the mountains. Day 
after day they struggled on, sleeping nights 
under the open sky, with no shelter when it 
rained. An epidemic broke out. Hundreds 
died on the way. 

All through these terrible days the Scouts 
were proving themselves. he young Ameri- 
can Scoutmaster had rejoined his troop when 
they fled from the town. ‘They helped as best 
they could on the way. Gradually, however, 
they became separated. But not one forgot 
that he was still a Scout, and kept busy helping 
in every way, rendering first-aid and ministering 
to the sick. 

Mutras, however, had managed to keep 
close to his beloved American Scoutmaster. 
Together they worked from day to day. Then 
one day the young Scoutmaster was stricken 

116 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





with the terrible epidemic. His father, the mis- 
sionary, and Mutras, watched over and cared 
for him. But love and careful nursing could 
not save the young American. Mutras and the 
father buried him by the roadside, and Mutras 
repeated the Scout oath over the newly made 
grave as a burial service. Then Mutras con- 
tinued his work with the missionary. 

At last they were all safe beyond the reach 
of the Turks, and found refuge near a small 
mountain village. Nearly half the Armenians 
had died from hardship, starvation and dis- 
ease. A future of hardship and possible star- 
vation lay before them. JBesides the young 
Scoutmaster, some other Americans had died 
too. 

Some of the missionaries remained with the 
refugees. But some were so sick they could 
be of no help, and they made their way to Pet- 
rograd and back to their friends in America. 

Among the missionaries who returned to 
America was the father of the young Scout- 
master. Remembering the devotion of Mutras 
to his boy, the missionary said: “Come back 
with me, Mutras, to my country. I'll see that 
you get safely through. Back in America 
there will be no more suffering and hardship 
for you. You will be safe and happy.” 

117 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


But Mutras would not go. ‘“‘My people 
need me here. I am strong and a Scout. I can 
help. Thank you, sir, for the offer; but I must 
stay here. If the Scout oath to ‘help other 
people at all times’ means anything, now is 
the time to show it.’’ 

Then he sought out the remnant of the 
troop, now only ten, and they pledged them- 
selves anew to God and to helping their peo- 
ple in their terrific fight against sickness and 
starvation in their new home. 





This story is a revision of one originally written for 
and published in a handbook issued jointly by the Inter- 
national Sunday School Association and the Near East 
Relief. The story was built on an actual incident reported 
by a returned Near East worker, 


118 


XVIII. 
SIDNEY’S RECOMMENDATION. 


IDNEY STANFORD was working in his 

first position after graduating from college. 
A good position, too, he thought it was; and 
he liked it. Sidney was ambitious, and it 
seemed to him as if this position was likely 
to put him into line to realize his ambitions 
some day. He used to dream of the time when 
he should become more important around that 
ofice. But he did not take it all out in 
dreaming. He put himself steadily to work 
to make good every day. 

There was only one thing about Sidney’s 
work that bothered him. His employer was a 
gruff man. He did not smile very often, and 
sometimes it seemed to Sidney as if his em- 
ployer was scarcely aware of his existence, 
Some of the people in the office stood in great 
awe of Mr. Bancroft. Sidney didn’t feel that 
way about him, but he used to say to himself: 
‘“T shouldn’t like to do anything to make him 

119 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





angry with me. I guess he could be pretty 
disagreeable. I’d rather he would not notice 
me at all than ever get angry with me. But 
some day I’ll make him notice me because of 
the good work I do.” 

Months went by. There was a rumor about 
the office that Mr. Bancroft felt he was not 
making enough money. Some of the employees 
called him a profiteer under their breath, but 
no one dared to say it out loud. Sidney could 
not see why Mr. Bancroft should be worried 
about money. So far as any one could see, the 
business was prosperous enough. 

One day there was another rumor abroad 
to the effect that Mr. Bancroft was thinking of 
making his employees work on Sundays, so as 
to get more done and take care of the increasing 
business without any extra help. Sidney was 
rather startled at this. It was against his 
principles to work on Sunday, unless it might 
be a great emergency. He had been taught 
by his parents to believe that God gave the 
Ten Commandments to ancient people to be 
kept, and not broken whenever it suited their 
convenience. One of those commandments was 
to “‘remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy,” 
and he believed Sunday should be so kept 
now. ‘Though Sidney was away from his fam- 

120 


STORIES FOR THE: JUNIOR HOUR 


ily, and making his own way, he still felt he 
would like to play fair with his home teaching. 

“T hope Mr. Bancroft won’t ask me to 
work Sundays,” Sidney said to himself. “Of 
course, if he were going into bankruptcy and an 
emergency was on, or if one of the fellows was 
sick and I had to do double work to help hold 
his job for him, that would be different. But 
just deliberately to work on Sundays so my em- 
ployer can make more money—well, I hope he 
won't ask me, that’s all.’’ However, he kept 
his own counsel and did not discuss the subject 
with the other people in the office. 

At last the blow fell. The employees were 
all called together one day and told that there- 
after the whole force would be divided into 
shifts, and that one shift would work on one 
Sunday and the other shift the next, and so 
alternate until further notice. Mr. Bancroft 
seemed sterner than ever as he stood before 
them. ‘‘There will be no favoritism, and no 
excuses will go. ‘This is the new rule at least 
for the next six months, and everybody will 
obey.” 

Sidney’s heart was thumping. Right on the 
instant he made up his mind. He couldn’t do 
it, and that was all. No matter what the cost. 
So, as Mr. Bancroft was going back to his 

121 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





office, Sidney stepped up to him. “Beg your par- 
don, sir. May I have a word with you,” he said. 

“Well, what's on your mind? Nothing 
about this Sunday working order, I hope. I 
told you to understand that was settled. If 
you have any Sunday engagement, change it.” 
He said it so loudly and gruffly that the other 
employees all heard him and looked around 
in surprise. Sidney was much embarrassed. 

SWell, ‘sir, itis (juste this; siren weonny 
to disappoint you, but I can not work on Sun- 
days. It is against my principles.” 

Mr. Bancroft pounded his fist on a desk 
beside him. “Principles! principles!’’ he shouted. 
“Didn’t I tell you there was no arguing the 
matter? What right have you to have princi- 
ples against anything I order? Go back to 
your desk and do as you're told.” 

‘But, sir, | do have principles.” And now 
Sidney was losing his hesitation, and, with 
squared shoulders, was speaking right out. 
‘Any man has a right to his own principles. 
And mine include respect for the Scriptures 
and the Lord’s Day. I must repeat, I can not 
work on Sundays when it does not seem nec- 
essary.” 

Mr. Bancroft stormed: “Seem necessary! 
Seem necessary! Who are you to say what 

122 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


shall be considered necessary around this office? 
You are discharged, young man—discharged 
this minute. ‘The cashier will pay you what is 
coming to you. If you ever get your senses 
back so you will do what you are told without 
arguing about principles, you can have your job 
back. The manager tells me you are a good 
worker, and a likely young fellow. But you 
have no sense. You'll find that good jobs are 
not so easily secured.’’ And he turned and 
walked away. 

For a minute Sidney stood dumbfounded. 
Now he certainly had got himself into trouble. 
He had liked this position so well; and he had 
seen such rosy promises for the future. But 
he squared his shoulders again. Well, it was 
better to starve than to go back on one’s prin- 
ciples; and he guessed he would not starve while 
he was well and strong. 

Several weeks passed. Sidney had answered 
advertisement after advertisement, only to find 
there was either something wrong with the po- 
sition, or it was one he could not fill. His visits 
to employment offices were no more fruitful. 
He was getting discouraged. Sometimes he 
wondered if he had been really wise to take the 
stand he did. But deep down in his heart he 
knew that he would have been a coward to do 

123 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





anything else. He took fresh courage and 
started out again to look for a position. It 
was hard to keep up his courage. His money 
was nearly gone. 

As for Mr. Bancroft, after his anger had 
died down, he acknowledged to himself that 
he was sorry to lose Sidney from his office. 
Even though Sidney had thought himself unno- 
ticed, Mr. Bancroft had had his eyes on him 
and had estimated his worth. He would say 
to himself: “Young whippersnapper, why did 
he have to be so headstrong? Maybe he did 
it on the spur of the moment and will come 
back. He’ll not find another position as good 
as this for some time.’’ But the days passed 
and Sidney did not come back. 

One day, when things were about as black 
for Sidney as they could well look, he was sur- 
prised to get a summons from one of the 
largest banks in town. What could they want! 
He had answered no advertisement of theirs; 
no employment office had a position in that 
bank listed. But Sidney lost no time in pre- 
senting himself to the director whose name was 
signed to the letter. It had given him no hint 
of what was wanted; only told him to call. 

The director looked Sidney over critically as 
he stood before him. Then he said: “‘Be seated. 

124 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


I understand you are looking for a position. 
We are open for an assistant cashier. Would 
you like to have the position?” | 

Sidney almost gasped. Assistant cashier! 
“Why, sir, I—I should be honored, but it is 
a surprise.” 

Then the director said: ‘“Where did you 
work before, and why did you leave?” 

Sidney's hopes dropped. He gave the name 
of the firm, but hesitated to tell the story of 
his dismissal. However, he knew he must tell 
the truth. 

“I was discharged, sir. Not because of 
poor work, but because I refused to work on 
Sunday. Id rather not go into details. I sup- 
pose you will refer to Mr. Bancroft anyway, 
and he will tell you about it. Then you can 
judge for yourself.” 

Sidney's courage was going down by degrees. 
He began to wonder whether, after all, this was 
not some terrible mistake. 

Then the director of the bank threw back 
his head and laughed. “I have had Mr. Ban- 
croft’s references already, and that is why I 
am offering you the position.” 

Sidney was puzzled, and his face plainly 
showed it. ‘Mr. Bancroft recommended me!” 
he exclaimed. 

125 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Then the director said: ‘Mr. Bancroft has 
a great many money transactions with this 
bank, and he is deeply interested in helping us 
keep a staff of honest employees. The other 
day I asked him if he could recommend any 
one for the position of assistant cashier, and 
he mentioned you. Said you used to work for 
him, but he had discharged you. 

“Of course, I was surprised, and asked him 
why he was recommending you to me if he 
had discharged you. Then he told me the 
whole story, and ended with: ‘You see, it is 
this way. I told him he could come back if 
he would give up his stubborn principles about 
Sunday working. I know he still has no job, 
for I have been keeping track of him. And I 
know he’s mightily worried too. But he won’t 
come back. I know that. He'll stick to his 
principles. He is absolutely honest and de- 
pendable, and that’s what a bank wants in a 
cashier. It is to my interest to keep honest 
cashiers in this bank, and I recommend him.’ ” 

The director laughed again, and added: 
‘So, young man, since even the employer who 
discharged you recommends you, the position is 
yours, if you want it.” 


126 


XIX. 
THE DICTATES OF CONSCIENCE: 


PY the days when King Louis XIV. reigned 
in France, Raul LeBlanc was twelve years 
old. When a boy gets to be twelve years old 
he knows many things, but there were some 
things Raul could not understand. 

Chief among the things that puzzled him 
was the question of religion. Why had the 
French troops burned down their little church? 
To be sure, it was a Protestant church, for 
Raul’s family and friends were French Hugue- 
nots. But what difference did that make? And 
now that they had no church, they worshiped 
in people’s houses. But they always set a watch 
at the door to give the alarm in case the king’s 
troops came into the neighborhood. 

Only a week before a group of worshipers 
had been given the signal that the troops were 
near. Some of the people slipped out the 
back door and scattered into neighbors’ houses. 
Some hid themselves in the cellar. Raul had 

9 127 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





gone with his mother to the cellar, and he 
remembered the sound of the tread of feet 
above them as the soldiers tramped through 
the main rooms to assure themselves there was 
no meeting in progress. How still they had 
kept! Raul scarcely breathed until the door 
slammed and the sound of tramping feet grew 
faint in the distance. 

Afterwards Raul said to his father: ‘““Why 
can’t we hold church services even in our homes 
without having the soldiers bother us?” 

The father replied: ‘“‘Because we are Prot- 
estants, and France is a Catholic country and 
the king is an ardent Catholic.” 

Raul drew his forehead into a puzzled frown. 
“Yes, I know, but why does that make any 
difference? Everybody says Louis is a great 
king. I remember that time we were in Paris 
and I caught a glimpse of him. He looked so 
splendid in his gold-laced coat and with that 
big white feather in his cocked hat. Why 
should he let the soldiers harm us, even if we 
are Protestants ?”’ 

The father explained patiently: ‘““The king 
is very religious, but he does not understand 
that real religion is a matter of loving God and 
following the teachings of Jesus in the way we 
think and live every day. The king’s idea 

128 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


of religion is to make everybody a member of 
the Catholic Church. He believes it wicked to 
allow any one to think for himself in religious 
matters or to worship in any other church.” 

Raul answered: ‘‘I know, father, but there 
was a treaty long ago, after the awful massacre 
of St. Bartholomew’s, saying we might worship 
as we please.”’ 

‘Yes, son, but lately the treaty is not kept, 
even though the king did promise to maintain 
it. I heard just the other day of how dragoons 
are quartered on the estates of some old and 
prominent Huguenot families, making them 
practically prisoners, eating their food and 
trying to torture them into becoming Catholics.”’ 

Raul asked no more questions, but he did 
not stop thinking and wondering. 

One day there were disquieting rumors 
afloat. People said the king had done away 
with the Treaty of Nantes—the treaty that had 
promised protection to the Huguenots—and that 
open war would be made on them now. 

Raul’s father went to the town headquarters 
to learn the truth. Yes, it was true. The king 
had repealed the treaty. All Huguenot minis- 
ters were ordered out of the country. Every 
other Huguenot was ordered not to leave the 
country on pain of death. Outposts and fron- 

129 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


tiers were being strictly guarded so no one 
could escape. | 

The idea was, that when the ministers were 
gone, the people themselves would be forced to 
become Catholics. 

There was panic among the Huguenots dur- 
ing the days that followed. Children were 
taken away from their parents and sent to 
convents to be brought up Catholic. People 
were thrown into prison. Many, in trying to 
escape were captured and made to work as 
convicts or put to death. But, although the 
soldiers were watchful, fifty thousand families 
escaped and fled to England and Holland and 
America. 

When Raul’s father came home after his 
visit to the town headquarters, where he found 
that the rumors were true, he made prepara- 
tions to flee with his wife and Raul in spite 
of the king’s command not to leave. 

To cover their departure, Mr. LeBlanc set 
fire to his house just as night fell. Their house 
sat apart from the other houses of the town, 
and he knew it could be burned without endan- 
gering other property. There was great con- 
fusion. The people and the soldiers crowded 
around to put the fire out, and in the confusion 
Mr. LeBlanc, with his wife and son, slipped 

130 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


through the crowd and into the shadow, and 
out to the woods at the edge of the town. In 
the excitement no one seemed to miss them 
until they were well on their way. 

Cautiously traveling by night and hiding by 
day, hungry often, footsore and weary beyond 
words, the three fugitives made their way to 
the border. To pass the border would be the 
hardest part of their escape. 

Mr. LeBlanc left Raul and his mother in 
safe hiding while he went to spy out the land. 
Sure enough, there was a sentry pacing back and 
forth. How far away was the next one? Cau- 
tiously peering through the trees, Mr. LeBlanc 
discovered another sentry distant about what 
would be two city blocks. But he noted that 
they both were on high ground, fairly clear of 
trees, and that between them was a ravine, wide 
and thickly wooded with low growth. He also 
noted that the sentries, being able to see for 
some distance, did not pace very close to this 
ravine, thinking it impassable, perhaps. 

If one could slip quietly enough through 
the ravine so the sentries could not hear the 
movements, one could not, of course, be dis- 
covered. 

Mr. LeBlanc went back to his wife and 
Raul. He told them the situation and de- 

131 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


scribed the lay of the land. “Can you crawl 
through the underbrush of that wild ravine, 
nearly a mile, perhaps, without making a noise 
loud enough to be heard?” he asked them. 
“We will try,” Raul and his mother answered. 
‘Nothing could be more dangerous than the 
position we are in right now.” 

Mr. LeBlanc gave them strict instructions, 
and the three proceeded. It was a risky under- 
taking. They walked back into the woods, 
found the mouth of the ravine, and made their 
way down into it. Progress was slow even 
while they could stand upright and walk, but 
when they were within sight of the sentries they 
dropped on their stomachs. Then foot by foot, 
rather almost inch by inch, through the long 
hours they crawled along the ravine. They were 
not afraid of ordinary rustling, but great care 
had to be taken not to make any crackling sound 
that could reach the ears of the sentries. 

Feeling their way along, slowly, in the dark, 
crawling over fallen trees, through muddy 
places, and around thickets, they could keep 
no track of the passing hours, ‘Their hands and 
faces were scratched, their clothes were torn. 
They dared not so much as lift themselves to 
their knees for fear of attracting attention. 
Occasionally a rotten tree trunk gave way as 

132 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


they crawled over it, and they would hold their 
breath in fear. How far did the sound carry! 
Once they surprised a small denizen of the 
woods that scuttled madly away at their ap- 
proach. Their hearts seemed to stand still. 
They listened for some sign that the sentries’ 
attention had been attracted. 

They could not tell how far they had gone 
nor how long they had been traveling in that 
painful way, when the day began to dawn. The 
father cautiously raised himself to his feet and 
looked around. ‘They had come to the end of 
the ravine. The sentries were too far behind to 
be seen. They were safe—beyond the borders 
of France! Nothing could harm them now. 

They were exhausted and weak with hunger, 
but free! It was not long before they came to 
a house whose occupants took pity on them 
and gave them food and a place to rest. They 
met many kind people, and in time they were 
able to get passage to America, where all might 
worship as they chose and in whatsoever church 
they chose without fear of hindrance. 

At first Raul could not get used to going 
openly to a Protestant church, where there were 
no guards on watch and every one seemed at 
ease. A sudden sound would make him start 
up, but his father’s hand upon his knee would 

133 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


reassure him. In time he realized that in this 
new land there were freedom for conscience and 
protection for all God-fearing people. Grad- 
ually the memory of the days of terror dimmed, 
but Raul never forgot the principle they had 
taught him, that every man has a right to his 
honest convictions in religion, and must be given 
the privilege of worshiping God as his reason 
and conscience may direct. 

Long afterwards the Catholics learned tol- 
eration, and freedom of worship came to 
Europe also. 


134 


XX. 


DAVID WHO WATCHED WITH THE 
SHEPHERDS. 


pee was the son of a shepherd. He 
lived nearly two thousand years ago in 
Palestine. How proud he was to be named for 
the great King David of old! He used to say 
to himself: “When I grow to be a man, I am 
going to be a brave shepherd like that other 
David. Of course, I'll never be a king, as he 
grew to be, but, at any rate, I can try to act 
like one.” 

But as yet David was not old enough to 
tend the sheep alone. But, oh! how he used to 
beg to go with his father when he watched over 
the sheep in the night. David used to dream 
about keeping guard on the hill. How his heart 
would thrill as he thought of the darkness and 
the silence and the swaying masses of sheep! 

Often and often he had said to his mother: 
‘When may I go with father to watch the sheep 
at night?’ The mother would say: “Oh, some 

135 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





time, lad.’ At last David grew tired of being 
put off. He felt he was getting to be a big lad 
and ought to be allowed to go. 

One night it seemed to him that he just 
could not be denied again. He pleaded with 
his father, who, at last, said: “Ask your mother, 
lad, and if she says you may go, all right.” 

But this particular night seemed so dark and 
still that somehow the mother did not feel that 
she wanted him to go. “Stay, lad; would not 
it be better to wait? I feel your choice of a 
night is unwise. Some other time you may go. 
Be patient a little longer.” 

But David had waited so long. He was 
impatient. ‘Oh, mother, you always say I 
may go some other time. The darkness does 
not matter. It will only make it all the more 
wonderful. Please let me go. I know it seems 
dark, but the stars are shining.” 

At last the mother consented. David 
trudged off with his father, his young heart 
throbbing in his breast. How excited he was! 
Out through the shadows toward the hill they 
went. [hat was the best pasture, and that was 
where they would watch that night. 

As they came to the pasture, another shep- 
herd greeted David’s father. ‘Hail, Jacob, a 
wonderful night this!” 

136 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Jacob answered: ‘“‘Aye, a wonderful night. 
So quiet and still! And the stars are so bright 
in the unusual blackness of the sky. I do not re- 
member another night like this in all my shep- 
herding. Jehovah is good to us. His mercy 
endureth for ever.”’ 

“Aye, good!” spoke another shepherd who 
had joined them. “But there is one thing we 
would ask more—to be free from Roman 
tyranny, to recover the glory of ancient Israel 
and the throne of our father David.” 

‘“‘But we have the promise,’ Jacob answered. 
‘A deliverer will come. He will come.” 

Several shepherds now _ stood _ round. 
Amen, they \’answered; >) may, ‘He?\come 
quickly.” 

David echoed the words: ‘‘Ah! I wish He 
would come quickly. I should like to see Him.” 

The night was chill. The shepherds built 
a fire and sat around it. At first the lad could 
not sit down. He was too restless and excited. 
Everything was so wonderful. He would peer 
through the darkness, all his senses alert. What 
if a wolf should come out of the shadows this 
night and try to steal one of the lambs? Da- 
vid’s heart beat fast. What should he do if 
such a thing happened? He strained his eyes 
toward the wilderness, where the wolves lived 

137 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


in the caves. But he saw no long, dark forms 
sneaking through the darkness. 

After awhile David grew tired. He sat 
down with the men by the fire. Some of them 
had stretched out on the ground and were quiet 
—sleeping, perhaps. David watched the fre. 
His thoughts again went to the David for whom 
he was named. How often that David of the 
olden times had watched through the night. 
But often he had watched alone, and wolves 
had come and tried to steal the sheep. 

David said to himself: ‘‘When I grow older, 
I'll not be afraid to watch alone. And if lions 
or wolves should come, I’d do like David did— 
I’d not be afraid. No wild animals shall 
ever get my sheep.” Ah, yes! he'd be like that 
other David for whom he was named. 

Night wore away. A drowsiness stole over 
his senses. The fire and the men gathered 
round it seemed far away, dim and unreal. His 
head nodded—his eyes closed. 

A shout from the men rudely roused him. 
‘Behold! What meaneth the light? Jehovah 
hath opened the heavens in glory this night.” 

The lad sprang from the ground in wonder. 
The glory nearly blinded his eyes. ‘Then he 
made out the forms of angels and heard the 
words: “‘A child is born.” 

138 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


“What child?” said David to himself. Then 
in the midst of his wondering he heard other 
words, but he only caught a few here and there: 
“City of David—Christ the Lord—swaddling- 
clothes—manger.”’ 

What did it all mean? Then the sky was 
filled with the sound of many voices in unison: 
“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth 
peace, good will toward men.” 

The voices ceased, the light faded. Again 
the deep darkness descended. The shepherds 
still lookd upward, partly in joy and partly in 
dread. Then one spoke: “‘Let us go to Beth- 
lehem yonder.” 

Off they started together. They paid no 
attention to David—they had forgotten him. 
But David didn’t mind. He followed closely. 
He did not know where they were going, for 
he had not sensed what the shepherd said. But 
he did not care. He would follow where they 
went. 

The rest of the night was like a wonderful 
dream—the long walk to Bethlehem, the cave 
and the manger, and most of all the mother 
and the child they found there. 

David and his father walked home as the 
first light of morning came over the eastern hill. 
He was living through it all again. It seemed 

139 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


more real even in memory with the light of 
dawn. 

The mother stood in the doorway, eagerly 
looking down the road. This was the first 
night in all his young life that David had been 
away from his mother. She had felt a sense of 
disquiet all the night through. Now David 
was returning. He was safe. His coming 
lifted her load of anxiety. 

David ran forward at the sight of his 
mother. ‘‘Oh, mother,” he cried, ‘‘I saw Him, 
the Messiah, the Saviour of earth. Wasn't it 
wonderful I kept watch with the shepherds this 
night of His birth? And, mother, I shall never 
forget Him. When He becomes a man and 
takes His place as the Messiah, the Redeemer 
of Israel, then will I be one of His disciples 
and I will follow Him wherever He may go.” 


140 


XXI. 
THE MAN HE WANTED TO BE. 


or was very sure about the kind of man 
he wanted to be when he was grown. Oh, 
yes, he knew quite well. He would be strong 
and athletic, successful in business, and honored 
by other men. He did not think very often 
about the time when he should be a man, but 
when he did think of it these were the things 
he decided upon. 

But, strangely enough, all the rest of the 
time when he did not give a thought to the man 
he was to be, he went about living his life as 
though he never declared he would one day be 
a strong, successful and honored man. How 
we know this, you will learn later. 

Now, it chanced that, one New Year’s Day, 
Tom had eaten a very hearty holiday dinner. 
It was too stormy for him to play out of doors. 
He grew tired of reading, and, besides, his 
heavy dinner made him sleepy, so he threw 
himself down upon a couch and fell asleep. 

141 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


While asleep, Tom dreamed the queerest 
dream of which you ever heard. He thought 
he was upon a street corner where many people 
passed to and fro. Suddenly there stood beside 
him an angel. The angel said: “Tom, I have 
brought you across many years, and I am going 
to show the boy you were the man you have 
become.”’ 

Tom was puzzled. ‘That was a strange re- 
mark; he could scarcely understand it at first. 
He murmured to himself: ‘“The boy I was, the 
man I have become! What does he mean?” 

Then the angel continued: “As you stand 
here upon this corner, with many people passing 
to and fro, I shall cause you to see yourself 
in the form of the man you have become. I 
want you to look closely at the men who pass 
and pick out yourself as the man you have 
grown to be.”’ 

Now Tom thought he understood. He said 
to himself: ‘“That’s easy.” Then he looked 
closely and soon saw walking in the crowd a 
tall, strong man, clean cut, erect, athletic look- 
ing—a wonderful type of healthy manhood. 

Tom pointed to this man and said eagerly to 
the angel: “There, there, see that man over 
there, the tall, straight fellow—there I am; 
there is the man I have become.” 

142 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





The angel looked, but shook his head 
slowly. ‘‘No, no, that is not the man you 
have become. What makes you think it is?” 

Tom answered indignantly: “Why, because 
I always said when I grew to be a man I 
should be big and strong.”’ 

“Oh,” murmured the angel, “that is what 
you said. But now you have chosen wrongly; 
that is not you. Choose again.”’ 

Tom looked rather gloomy, but he turned 
back to watching the crowd. FEagerly he 
scanned the men who passed. Then he pointed 
excitedly to a man a short distance away. ‘The 
man was finely dressed, very prosperous looking, 
and had a good, honest face. There seemed to 
be many people walking along with him. They 
were talking about the man; they seemed to be 
applauding him, though he did not appear to 
notice it. ‘The people were praising him among 
themselves. They were telling one another how 
proud they were to have such an honorable 
and successful man in their community. 

Tom’s eyes shone with excitement. “Look!” 
he cried to the angel. “See that man. I know 
now I was mistaken before. There is the man 
I have become.” 

He wondered why the angel did not get 
excited, too, and was quite disgusted when he 

10 143 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





said in an even voice: “Why do you think that 
is you?” 

“Why?” echoed Tom. “I'll tell you why. 
Haven’t I always said I was going to be suc- 
cessful and honored? Isn't that reason 
enough ?”” 

Again the angel answered quietly: ‘Yes, 
that is what you have said. But again you 
are mistaken.”’ 

‘Mistaken !”’ cried Tom, indignantly. ‘‘ Well, 
then, which one is the man I have become?” 

The angel waited a moment or two before 
answering. The crowd was thinning, and a 
little way off there was a clear space, and one 
man walked slowly along by himself. 

The angel pointed. “There you are, Tom, 
over there in the open space—see, the man 
walking alone!”’ 

Tom looked. His face took on an angry 
look. ‘That man!” he cried indignantly. The 
man Jom was looking at was neither erect nor 
athletic looking. He was stooped and did not 
seem to have much vigor or energy. He was 
rather shabbily dressed, as though he had 
neither the money nor the ambition to dress 
himself well. No one seemed to pay any atten- 
tion to him. No one was praising him or 
giving him honor. 

144 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Again Tom said: “That man! Well, you 
surely are mistaken. How could I be that 
man?” 

How exasperating was the calmness of the 
angel. He asked quietly, “What makes you 
think I am mistaken?” 

Tom answered: “What makes me think so? 
Say, haven’t I always said I was going to be 
big and strong and successful and honored? 
I guess I know what kind of a man I’ve be- 
come.”’ 

But the angel only answered once more: 
“Yes, that is what you said.’ Then, with a 
little more emphasis, he added: ‘But that 
last man is the kind of man you have worked 
to become.” 

Tom looked puzzled. ‘What I have 
worked to become! What do you mean?” 

“T will tell you,’’ said the angel. ‘Tom, 
life is a stairway, and every day is a step 
upward from boyhood to manhood. It makes 
no difference what you say you will become. 
But it makes all the difference in the world what 
you work to become. How you live on every 
one of those steps leading upward is what 
determines the man you become. 

“You said you wanted to be a strong man. 
But how about those times you did not take 

145 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


care of your body? You neglected your exer- 
cise, slept with closed windows, forgot your 
teeth, ate what you should not and would not 
eat what you should for health. Every day 
counted in making the man. 

‘You said you wanted to be successful. A 
successful man must work hard. How about 
the times you shirked your duty? And every 
time you did you weakened your will power. 
How about the times you would not study, and 
failed to get good marks? 

“You said you would be an honorable man. 
But how about the times you cheated; told a 
little lie to get out of something; failed to keep 
your word? 

“Oh, I know what you said. But you can’t 
get away from what you did.’ ‘The angel’s 
voice was sorrowful and his face was sad, as 
he continued: “It is too bad. But life is a 
stairway. I am sorry you did not know how 
to walk up.” 

So saying, the angel was gone, for at that 
moment Tom awoke. He sat upright with a 
start, rubbed his eyes and looked around. 

“Gracious! What was I dreaming?” He 
thought a moment. ‘Oh, yes. Some one was 
showing me myself as a man. That fellow! 
Whew! Id hate to be that kind of a man.” 

146 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Then he thought a moment more, and said: 
“But what was that the angel told me? Let 
me think. Oh, yes! Life is a stairway, and 
it depends on how you live each step of the way 
up what kind of man you will be.”’ 

He paused a moment, then added: ‘Say, I 
never thought of that. Maybe that angel is 
right. Let me see. That would make 365 steps 
in a year, and this is New Year’s Day. Well, 
I guess I’d better watch my step.” 


147 


XXIT. 


CO-ORDINATED STUDY AND SOCIAL 
AC DCLY LETES, 


(For Use with Stories on Social Living.) 


'T is not the aim of this chapter to suggest 
special activities for each story, but to indi- 
cate activities under various phases of the idea 
of social living. The suggestions are in the 
nature of very simple projects which may be 
carried through the several sessions in which the 
stories related to that particular idea are told. 
To a great extent the manner of giving these 
suggestions is very informal. As the writer 
has used these ideas with Juniors, the occasional 
interpolation of personal experiences, it is 
hoped, will not be considered improper. 

The groups of children under the supervi- 
sion of the writer, when these studies were used, 
were fairly large. Boys and girls were divided 
into separate classes. They came together for 
worship and for music practice, then separated 


for class study, the class teacher giving the 
148 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





story, conducting the discussion and supervising 
the class activity. In the more distinctly project 
type of work indicated, the classes met sep- 
arately for discussion, study and the story, until 
the session before the climax of the project, 
then they would meet together to plan for the 
climax, and, of course, carry out the plans 
together. 

In no case was any class teacher bound by 
mechanical restrictions as to material or pro- 
cedure of study, though all followed the same 
general outline of work. Much was left to 
the initiative of the children and their interest 
leads followed so far as practicable. 

When a dramatization was given before the 
larger group, if it was given by one class alone, 
it was worked out in that class and given as a 
surprise to the others. In the case of a 
dramatization including more than one class, the 
teachers decided which parts each class should 
contribute. Usually each class worked out the 
entire dramatization as classroom work, then 
the real participants would get together by 
themselves and perfect it. There is no objection 
whatever to girls taking male parts. In class- 
room, spontaneous dramatization, of course, the 
sex of the character and the sex of the par- 
ticipant need not be considered. 

149 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





Group I.—FAMILY LIFE. 
(See Stories I. and II.) 


Aim: To deepen the children’s love and re- 
spect for parents and each other, and for their 
homes; and to help them live more harmo- 
niously together. 

Get the children to discuss the various types 
of homes: tents, Eskimo huts, log houses, pal- 
aces, cottages, bungalows and others. Also 
discuss the kinds of homes from which some of 
our great men have come. From the discus- 
sion draw out the idea of what makes a happy 
home—the kind of dwelling versus the spirit 
of the members of the family. Indicate clearly 
the fact of mutual love and respect, family wor- 
ship, knowledge of and obedience to God’s 
laws, obedience to father and mother, as of 
prime importance to a happy home. 

Discuss also what can spoil a happy home: 
teasing, bossing, disobedience, uncalled-for tale- 
bearing, jealousy, failure to respect each other’s 
rights. 

Suggested verses to be looked up in class by 
the children and read aloud. (The writer has 
discovered a keen desire on the part of boys 
and girls to read aloud from the Bible.) 

150 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Erovrcroseroc a2 |OMNG 131534) 3 5. 
Proverbs! 1-5)" John ys 12. 
iphasiansy 432-01 | OUNs Ts 's) 17. 
Luke 15: 11-24 (the story of the prodigal son). 
Have the children work out a standard of 
home conduct. Let each one suggest one item. 
The teacher will write all the suggestions on the 
blackboard. From the suggestions, let the chil- 
dren choose the items which they think most 
important. Discuss each item freely and fully. 
Using the items decided upon as compris- 
ing an ideal group, let each child make a poster 
to hang in his room at home. White, lightly 
ruled paper may be used, and after the writing 
is finished the white paper may be pasted on a 
colored mounting-paper of medium weight. At 
the top let each child write the heading: 


MY RULES FOR HOME CONDUCT. 


At the bottom each one may write something 
like the following: 


WHEN JESUS RULES IN EVERY HEART, 
HOME IS A HAPPY PLACE. 


Following are some rules actually worked 
out by classes under the writer’s supervision: 
1. At home I believe that I should be obe- 
dient to my father and mother. 
151 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


2. I should always be unselfish. 

3. I believe I should be helpful whenever 
I can. 

4. I should speak the truth and be abso- 
lutely honest. 

5. I should be loving, thoughtful and kind. 

6. I should be cheerful and happy. 

7. I believe that I should be tidy, and that I 
should be polite. 

8. I should read my Bible and pray to my 
heavenly Father, and I should always try to 
do the things He would want me to do. 

One group of children, to some of whom 
Channing’s creed was familiar, modeled its 
rules after this style: 

To greet the day cheerfully; 

To work willingly; 

To act unselfishly; 

To play honestly; 

To study hard and speak gently; 

And search for the true and noble always. 

Another standard worked out by a group: 

1. Be loving, obedient and helpful to father 
and mother. 

2. Be loving and kind to brothers and sis- 
ters. 

3. [Think more of others in the home than 
of yourself. 

152 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


4. Be trustworthy in all that you do. 

5. Let Jesus rule in your heart and in your 
home. 

It would be well for the teacher to tell the 
children that when this study is completed, and 
at any subsequent time, she would be glad to 
receive reports on how they tried to keep the 
rules. It is not advisable to ask the children to 
report in class, but to report personally to the 
teacher. In a group of classes supervised by 
the writer, a number of children reported their 
efforts to live up to the rules adopted. 

One little girl who lived with her grand- 
mother said: “I always hated our home. Grand- 
mother was always so cranky, and when she 
was cross and scolded, I ‘sassed’ her back. I 
never wanted to stay home if I could go any- 
where. But I am trying to keep the code, and 
now when grandmother gets cranky and scolds 
I don’t ‘sass’ her back, and everything is ever 
so much nicer. I like to stay home now.” 

Suggested prayer: Dear Father in heaven, 
we thank Thee for that wonderful home in 
Nazareth where the boy Jesus lived with His 
family. We thank Thee for our homes and 
for our fathers and mothers and sisters and 
brothers. Help us to remember that Thou 
art in our homes. Help us to live joyously to- 

153 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


gether, loving and serving Thee, and each 
other. Amen. 


Group II.—FRIENDSHIP. 
(See Stories III., IV. and V.) 


Aim: To show the pupils the real meaning 
of friendship, how to make friends, and how to 
be a true friend. 

A week previous to this lesson the children 
may be asked to bring in pictures cut from 
magazines showing friendships among children. 
Many interesting ones can be found of children 
playing, studying and working together. For 
the use of those who forget, the teacher should 
supply herself with a number. The pictures 
may be mounted on heavy manila paper in class. 

Let each child go before the group and 
exhibit his picture and tell the elements of 
friendship depicted. Give the children an op- 
portunity to discuss each picture. The pictures 
may be thumb-tacked to the wall during the 
remainder of the study of this subject. 

Suggestions for discussion: 

What do you like in your friends that makes 
you want them for friends? 

What are some things we expect in friend- 
ship? 

154 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


. Courtesy. 

. Forbearance. 
. Truthfulness. 
. Loyalty. 

From the beginning of this series of lessons 
the teacher should note the bearing and actions 
of the children toward one another. Without 
personalities, these points may be brought up 
for discussion. 

Let the children look up and read aloud 
Matt. 26:46, 47, and contrast the loyalty of 
Damon and Pythias with the betrayal of Jesus 
by Judas. 

Suggest to the children that they print the 
following mottoes. The best copy of each 
motto may be placed upon the wall of the class- 
room for several weeks. 

A man that hath friends must show himself 
friendly.—Proy. 18:24 (King James Version). 

Of what shall a man be proud if he is not 
proud of his friends ?’—Robert Louis Stevenson. 

Jesus said, Ye are my friends, if ye do what- 
soever | command you.—John 15: 14. 

The first chapter of Ruth is a good story 
for reading and class dramatization. 

Call attention to the fact that on the tomb 
of Robert Louis Stevenson were chiseled the 
words of Ruth to Naomi: ‘Whither thou 
155 


BR WN 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I 
will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and 
thy God my God. Where thou diest, will I die, 
and there will I be buried.” 

Institute an “Invite Your Friend” day for 
Sunday school, vacation Bible school or week- 
day church school—or whatever may be the 
group using these stories. Boys and girls of 
the group may give the program, including 
the dramatization of the first chapter of Ruth, 
Stevenson’s prayer, and retelling of one of the 
stories on friendship. It is not necessary that 
the friends invited be such as can join the group 
permanently. 

Be sure to climax these lessons with the 
idea of Jesus being our best friend. 

From Robert Louis Stevenson’s prayer for 
his friends: 

‘We thank Thee for this place in which 
we dwell; for the love that unites us; for the 
peace accorded to us this day; for the hope 
with which we expect the morrow; for the 
health, the work, the food, and the bright 
skies that make our lives delightful; for our 
friends in all parts of the earth and our friendly 
helpers in this foreign isle. . .. Give us courage 
and gaiety and the quiet mind. Spare to us our 
friends, soften to us our enemies. Bless us, if 

156 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


it may be, in all our innocent endeavors. If it 
may not, give us strength to encounter that 
which is to come, that we be brave in peril, 
constant in tribulation, temperate in wrath, and 
in all changes of fortune, and, down to the 
gates of death, loyal and loving one to another. 


Group III.—NEIGHBORLINESS, 
(See Stories VI. and VII.) 


Aim: To deepen in the children the sense 
of the necessity of living peacefully in their 
community, respecting the rights of neighbors 
and living rightly with their fellows in a friendly 
social order. 

Children are always interested in hermits. 
Talk about why any one would choose to live 
a hermit’s life. 

Suggestions for discussion: 

What makes trouble among neighbors? 

1. Covetousness—envy of neighbors’ greater 
possessions. 

2. Selfishness. 

3. Lack of consideration for others’ rights. 

Discuss (1) boys running over other peo- 
ple’s lawns; (2) breaking trees; (3) picking 
flowers; (4) automobile parties invading farm- 
ers’ orchards and gardens. 

157 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





How far should boys and girls go in Hal- 
lowe’en pranks? One Hallowe’en a group of 
boys marred a costly sign of a business concern. 
The sign could never be restored, and had to 
remain so marred until the firm felt it could 
afford a new one. 

It is not enough to do no ill to neighbors; 
one must do active good. In a class some one 
told of a letter received by a member of his 
family from a friend, in which were reported 
neighborly actions at the time of death in the 
family of the writer of the letter: “The neigh- 
bors provided all the meals until after the 
funeral, with the exception of breakfast, and 
then they sent doughnuts and coffee-cake. There 
must have been a plan worked out among them, 
because, just before time for each meal, dishes 
of hot food would come in.”’ 

Let the boys and girls look up and read 
aloud passages telling what the Bible says about 
how to treat one’s neighbors. (King James 
Version was used in making these selections. ) 


Proverbs 3: 29. Romans 13: 10. 
Galatians J§ 7 T4) 0) James 228¢ 
1 John 4: 7. Matthew 7: 12. 


Where two dispute, if the one’s anger rise, 
The man who lets the contest fall is wise. 


-—Plutarch. 
158 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


In several classes supervised by the writer, 
the girls dramatized a Girl Scout story entitled 
‘Milly Master’s Sister,” in ‘‘Better Americans, 
No. 3,’ by Gates. (Missionary Education 
Movement, publishers. ) 

Ask the children to report on any one in 
their neighborhood whom they know to be 
lonely. If any one reports on an adult, the 
report may be turned over to the minister or a 
women’s society. If any children report on a 
new boy or girl who has moved into their neigh- 
borhood, let them elect a “Be Neighborly 
Committee” of all members of the class in that 
neighborhood. ‘This committee will be charged 
with making the newcomers feel at home in the 
neighborhood, and inviting them to join their 
games and their class. The committee will re- 
port in class later what was done. If the adult 
reported is a shut-in, it may be that the boys and 
girls can do something themselves to make the 
lonely one happier. ‘This gives an opportunity 
for originality, and the teacher must judge what 
is wisest. 

The minister of the church may be invited to 
tell the boys and girls what the church does to 
show itself neighborly—visiting by himself and 
the men’s and women’s societies, helping the 
poor, sending flowers to the sick, etc. Chil- 

11 159 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


dren are so often ignorant of the activities of 
the church in the matter of neighborliness. 

Suggested prayer: Our God, we thank Thee 
because Thou art.the Father of us all. Help 
us to live at peace with all people. Help us to 
be generous and considerate and play fair in 
our neighborhood relations. Grant that we 
may live with our neighbors in kindliness and 
helpfulness, fulfilling the royal law of love. This 
we ask in the name of Jesus, the great advocate 
of peace and love. Amen. 


Group I[V.—OurR RELATIONS TO STRANGERS 
AND FOREIGNERS. 


(See. Stories) VITT., IX! and xX.) 


Aim: To lead the boys and girls to appre- 
ciate the great principles of human brotherhood 
and understand the desirability of justice and 
courtesy in our dealings with people of every 
race and nationality. 

Suggestions for discussion: 

Do we have any responsibility toward peo- 
ple whom we do not know? 

Why should we care if a strange woman 
enters a street-car with a baby in her arms and 
has to stand, or if a very elderly man or woman 
has to stand? 

160 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


What business is it of ours if a blind man 
stands on a corner waiting to get across a busy 
street? 

Is it right to crowd ahead and push in enter- 
ing street-cars; to talk, munch candy, hit one’s 
feet against the seat ahead, or tap the feet in 
time with the music at movies or other public 
entertainments ? 

Is it any business of ours whether people 
we do not know starve, or whether the heathen 
get the gospel preached to them? 

As the greater number of the stories in this 
volume are based on the idea of fair play, the 
children should be asked to look up in the Bible 
and read aloud again and again the following: 

1. The Great Commandment—Matt. 22: 
37-39: 

2. The Golden Rule—Matt. 7: 12. 

The children may be given pencil and paper 
and asked to write out a list of not less than 
six ways in which they may offer personal cour- 
tesies to strangers—either to boys and girls or 
to adults. Afterwards let each one read his list 
aloud. Pick out those things that may be done 
with reasonableness and safety. Ask the pupils 
to watch for opportunities for doing these 
helpful deeds during the week and report at the 
next meeting. 

161 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Boys may dramatize ‘“[he Good Samaritan.” 

One group made a “Scroll of the Nations.” 
The children brought in pictures cut from papers 
and magazines representing people of many 
races and countries. The best ones were chosen 
and pasted on a scroll. When the scroll was 
completed and displayed on the wall, one pupil 
asked, with a sort of newly awakened conscious- 
ness of the great number of different types of 
people: ‘‘Teacher, do I have to love all these?” 

An “Every Land” party may be arranged. 
A mid-session party, to which the children might 
come representing many countries, would prove 
enjoyable and instructive. If possible, the chil- 
dren should come in the various native costumes. 
If not in costume, each child might wear across 
his chest a small flag of the country he repre- 
sents or a broad band on which the name of the 
country is printed in large letters. All during 
the party the children should try to keep the 
attitude of mind of the country they represent. 

For games: 

Ask the children to do some research work 
in the matter of games played by the children 
of other countries. Boys and girls read so many 
books telling of children in other lands they 
should be able to bring to the party some sug- 
gestions of such games to play. 

162 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


For the program: 

The teacher may call upon some of the boys 
and girls to try to imagine themselves in the 
actual position of a native of the land he rep- 
resents, and tell how he would like to be treated 
by people of other nations. These assignments 
should be given out in advance, and the teachers 
should help the boys and girls with their talks. 

The teacher may ask others to tell of some 
particular trait of character of their nation of 
which they are proud; as, French, thrift; Chi- 
nese, their ancient civilization; Japanese, cour- 
tesy; American Indians, endurance; negroes, 
their unlimited ability to enjoy simple fun; peo- 
ple of India, the fine intellects of their philoso- 
phers. 

Any child who sings particularly well may 
be asked to sing the national anthem of the 
country he represents; groups may also be asked 
to sing various national anthems. Of course, 
all should sing “America,” or “The Star-Span- 
gled Banner,’ and “O Beautiful for Spacious 
Skies.”’ 

If desirable, the boys may give the drama- 
tization of ““The Good Samaritan,” which they 
have worked out previously in class. 

Boys and girls in a number of classes super- 
vised by the writer delighted in giving a very 

163 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





simple dramatization entitled ‘Old Glory’s 
Children,” by Dorothy Green, which may be 
found in “Training the Junior Citizen,” by 
Forsythe. 

To this party may be invited as special 
guests any foreign children in the neighborhood. 
It may be some of these guests would be able 
to contribute something to the program. 

Suggested prayer: 

Dear Father, we thank Thee that Thou art 
such a great God. All the ends of the earth 
are Thine; Thou dost hold the universe in the 
hollow of Thy hands. Help us to realize that 
Thou dost love the whole world, all races and 
colors and nations; and that Thou didst send 
Thy Son that all people might be saved. Make 
us know that all are our brothers and sisters, 
and that the banner of Christ should unite ‘“‘all 
mankind in service and love.” Help us to 
deal justly and courteously with all men. Amen. 


Group V.—ForRGIVING Our ENEMIES. 
(See Story XI.) 


Aim: To impress upon the boys and girls the 
need of putting Jesus’ teachings into daily life, 
especially the teachings of forbearance and for- 
giveness. 

164 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Jesus knew that the cause of most of the 
troubles in the world is that people do not 
have loving and forgiving hearts. ‘They harbor 
jealousies and desires for revenge, sometimes 
even for the most simple injuries. 

One day one of His disciples asked Jesus 
about forgiving people who wronged him. 
Jesus knew that every one wants to be forgiven 
when he does wrong, both by his heavenly Fa- 
ther and by his fellow-men, so He told them 
there is no limit to the times we should forgive, 
even seventy times seven. That would be doing 
as we should want God and our fellow-men to 
do to us. 

Then Jesus told His disciples a story about 
a man who did not play fair; who was forgiven, 
but would not forgive. 

The teacher may tell the story of “The 
Unjust Servant” (Matt. 18: 23-34). Let her 
tell it, not as it is given in the Bible, but in the 
form of a story as it may be dramatized after- 
wards. Then let the children work out a 
dramatization. 

The writer worked out such a dramatiza- 
tion with five different groups. The children 
enjoyed it immensely. The following is the 
dramatization as worked out by one group. 
The others were very similar. The teacher 

165 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


gave only guidance in the progress of the 
play and a suggestion here and there. ‘The 
children who were not taking part were the 
critics and helped with suggestions. The par- 
ticipants first worked out the dramatization, 
with interruptions and suggestions, then gave it 
again without interruption. The following week 
the children who had not acted it out insisted 
on giving it, and the play was given over several 
times until every one had participated. The 
dramatization indicates the form in which the 
story was told. 


SCENE I. 


The master is sitting on a chair with a 
servant standing beside him. He is looking at 
his record of accounts. 

Master—I see from my accounts that my head 
servant John owes me a great deal of 
money. He has owed it to me for a long 
time. I must see that he settles with me. 
(Master knocks and another servant enters 

and bows low to the floor.) 

Master—Bid my head servant John appear 
before me. 

(Servant bows, leaves and returns with 
John. Servant walks onto platform ahead of 
John. When on the platform, he steps back 

166 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


and lets John pass him; then he goes off. John 

bows low before his master.) 

Master—You have owed me a large sum of 
money for a long time. I demand that 
you pay. 

John—Sir, I can not pay. 

Master—Can not pay! You have had money 
from time to time, why did you not plan 
so you could take care of this debt? You 
know what happens to people who do not 
pay their debts. Their wives and children 
may be sold and they may be sent to 
prison. 

John (falling on his knees)—Master, I beg of 
you not to sell my wife and children. But 
give me time and I will pay. Have pa- 
tience and I will pay all. 

Master—I suppose I should feel sorry for you. 
Well, I will be patient. If you will prom- 
ise to save your money and not be extrav- 
agant, I will be patient. I will forgive 
you the debt. Go your way. 

John—I am grateful, sir. Thank you. (Bows 
low and leaves, going off at left.) 


SCENE II. 


(Platform is bare. John comes walking 
from left and comes upon his. fellow-servant 
167 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


who is walking from the right. A group of 
three other servants stands off to one side. 
These three are talking together. When they 
hear the voices of John and the fellow-servant, 
they stop talking and watch them. They look 
at each other, showing great disapproval of 
what John is doing, for they know that John has 
just been forgiven his debt by his master.) 

John—Ah! here you are! I have been look- 
ing for you. Pay me that money you 
owe me. 

Fellow-servant—I can not pay. I have no 
money. 

John—No money! That is no concern of 
mine. You must get it. You must pay 
at once. I demand it. If you do not, I 
will send you to jail. 

Fellow-servant—Have mercy. Have mercy. 
I will pay all some time. Do not send 
me to jail. 

John—Wretch! I will not have mercy. I 
will take you to jail. You do not de- 
serve mercy. 

(John takes fellow-servant by the arm and 
drags him off. ‘The watching servants hurry 
off left to go to their master. They do not 
speak, but indicate by their manner that they 
are going to inform him of this injustice.) 

168 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


ScENE III. 


(Master is sitting in chair with servant 
beside him as in first scene. Group of three 
servants come on from left. They bow low, 
and one speaks.) 

Speaker—We have just seen something . we 
think you should know about. We know 
that you forgave a large debt to your head 
servant John. And yet he in his turn was 
not patient, but when he came upon a fel- 
low-servant who owed him money, though 
not even so much, and could not pay, he 
would not have patience. He thrust his 
fellow-servant into jail. We do not think 
this is fair. (The others nod their heads 
and indicate that they agree with the 
speaker. ) 

Master—Thank you. I shall take care of it. 
(Servants bow low and leave. Master 

knocks for the messenger servant, who ap- 

pears and bows low.) 

Master—Bring my head servant John to me. 
(Servant bows and goes out. He soon 

appears with John. Servant retires and John 

bows before his master. ) 

Master—Did I not recently forgive you a 
large debt that you owed me because 

169 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





I was sorry for you and wanted to be 
kind? Did I not refrain from selling 
your wife and children and sending you 
to jail because you could not pay? I was 
patient and forgiving. Is this not so? 

John—It is, master. 

Master—Then, why were you not patient and 
forgiving with your fellow-servant who 
likewise owed you money, though not so 
much ? 

(John does not answer, but hangs his head 
in embarrassment. ) 

Master—Because of your unfairness you shall 
be punished. I will send you to jail so you 
may have time to think over the ideas of 
fairness and forgiveness. Your fellow- 
servant shall be released. 

(Master knocks for messenger servant, who 
appears and bows low.) 

Master—Take this man to jail and bring to me 
the other servant who was just taken there 
by this man. 

(John and servant bow; servant takes John 
by the arm and leads him out. He shortly ap- 
pears with the fellow-servant; leads him onto 
the platform and retires. Fellow-servant bows. ) 
Master—I have heard how you were unfairly 

treated by one who should have learned 

170 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


the lesson of forgiveness. I forgive you. 

Oma nee: 

Fellow-servant (falling to his knees)—Thank 
you, sir. Oh! thank you a hundred times! 

A modern instance of one who followed 
Jesus’ teaching of forgiveness: When President 
McKinley was assassinated, with almost his dy- 
ing breath he forgave the man who shot him. 
That was the greatest event in the life of that 
splendid and great President. 

Suggested prayer: Our heavenly Father, 
help us to follow in the way of the blessed 
Lord Jesus, who taught us how to love and 
forgive. May we show forth in daily life the 
power of love in all we do and say. May we 
harbor no ill will toward anybody; nor de- 
sire to get even when others are unjust or 
unkind, but to forgive and forget, and in that 
way make those who ill treat us our friends 
instead of our enemies. ‘This we ask in the 


name of Jesus, who forgave even those who 
took from Him His life. Amen. 


Group VI.—MAkING OTHERS Happy. 
(seesptonies “LI., XID XLV and XV.) 


Aim: To impress the boys and girls with the 
joy and satisfaction of working with God to 
make the world happier. 

171 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Do all the people in the world have what 
they need of the good things of life? 

People who have plenty have a chance to 
grow bigger and finer in character by helping 
to make their fellows happier. 

Way back in Old Testament times, God put 
it into the hearts of His people to help their 
less fortunate neighbors. In the old Hebrew 
laws were written the things God wanted peo- 
ple to do for the poor. 

Let the children look up and read aloud 
Lev. 19:9, 10, concerning leaving gleanings; 
and Deut. 15: 7-11, about giving to the poor. 
This will be impressive. 

In the old days the Jews had a festival of 
harvest, the forerunner of our Thanksgiving 
Day. They brought the firstfruits of the sea- 
son’s ingathering to the Lord as a sacrifice. 

Jesus said that when we do for the poor it 
is the same as doing for Him. Read Matt. 25: 
34-40, and also 1 John 3:17, 18. 

The teacher may secure information about 
some near-by orphanage and give it to the chil- 
dren. The teacher should consult the orphan- 
age directors regarding how her group may 
help give the orphanage children a good time. 
The following activities are suggested, as 
having been successfuly tried: 

172 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


The boys may challenge the boys in the 
orphanage to a game of baseball. Those 
who do not play will go to look on or play 
other games with others of the children. 

The boys and girls may make scrapbooks 
for the orphanage children, filling them with 
all sorts of gay pictures of boy and girl life 
and with jokes, as well as several good Bible 
pictures. 

Some gift, in addition to the scrapbooks 
(which are especially for the younger orphanage 
children), would be welcomed by the orphans 
—nperhaps apples and oranges. 

The leader should start the boys and girls 
with their plans at least two or three weeks 
before they actually go to the orphanage, so 
they will get the most out of the stories and 
the actual contact. 

The children should first discuss the things 
they are thankful for. After that a mere sug- 
gestion from the leader that they may like to 
share their good things with the orphanage 
children about which she tells them will elicit 
a responsive desire to give them happiness. 
They probably can not give dolls or radios, but 
any group could give apples and oranges. 

The teacher should make every effort to 
keep the boys and girls perfectly natural in 

173 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


their attitudes toward the orphanage children. 

That there might be no chance for a hint of 

patronage, the leader might suggest to the or- 

phanage directors that their children provide a 

little program of entertainment for their visitors 

in addition to the outdoor games. This will 
make the sharing mutual. 

Perhaps the group can not go to the orphan- 
age. In that event they may send their gifts, 
together with a little note. The getting together 
of the gifts offers an opportunity for class- 
room activity in the form of a simple stage 
scene. 

The stage setting should be simple: chairs 
and table, with several boys and girls, plainly 
dressed, sitting around. ‘The girls may be read- 
ing or sewing, the boys studying around the 
table, which is strewn with books. As the cur- 
tains open, they begin to talk. 

First Boy—Say, do you know this is Thanks- 
giving week? 

Chorus—Sure; every one knows that. 

First Girl—I don’t care if it is. I don’t feel 
very thankful. We won't have turkey 
or any apples or oranges this year. 

Another Girl—For shame! You ought to be 
glad you are here. What if you had no 
place to go? What would you do then? 

174 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


First Girl—Oh, I know it seems ungrateful, 
but sometimes I get so hungry for apples 
and oranges that I don’t know what to do. 

Another Boy—Well, I wish we had more books 
to read, too. But, ho! ho! Guess we'd 
better be pretty thankful for what we have. 
I am glad I am not starving. At that, we 
are better off than those refugees in the 
Near East I have been reading about. 

First Girl—But wouldn't it be fine if some one 
would bring us all the oranges and apples 
we could eat? Matron says they are so 
expensive the orphanage can’t buy them. 
(She starts up as some one off the stage 
calls, “Hurrah! Hurrah!) What's that? 
(A girl bursts in and announces breathlessly: 

“Say, what do you think! Some boys and girls 

are bringing us apples and oranges and books. 

I saw them coming and heard them talking to 

the matron. ) 

Chorus of Voices (as all spring to their feet) 
—Apples and oranges! 

First Girl—Did you ever! We were just wish- 
ing for apples and oranges. 

Girl Who Just Came In—Here they are now. 
What can we put the things in? (Spies a 
basket.) Here, this is just the thing. 
(Gets basket.) 

12 175 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


(At this moment the teacher will give a 
signal and the children in the audience will 
march around and put their gifts into the bas- 
ket. As the gifts are put in, the orphans will 
say “Thank you” to each in turn. When the 
gifts are all deposited, donors will return to 
their seats and settle down to quiet at once. 
Children on the platform will resume their 
dialogue. 

First Girl—Well, I never! This is the last time 
Pll ever complain. This is a pretty good 
world even for orphans. 

Chorus of Voices—It surely is. Hurrah for 
the people who remember the orphans! 
(Exit. ) 

The note to accompany the gifts may then 
be written. The children may choose a secre- 
tary to do the writing after the wording has 
been decided upon. The teacher may take 
the children’s suggestions and the note may 
be worked out on the blackboard and copied 
later by the secretary. It should be very sim- 
ple and short. 





Perhaps the boys and girls may prefer doing 
something for the Near East orphans. If they 
choose these orphans, of course they must send 
the money. Explain that they should not ask 

176 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 





their parents for the money, but deny them- 
selves something. 

A good discussion may be had as to how 
much the boys and girls would like to give; 
what they can give up for the orphans—ice- 
cream cones, a movie, walk instead of paying 
carfare when the distance is not too great. The 
children should be given small envelopes in 
which to put the money, as they save it. 

A large map of the world should be hung on 
the wall and the children given an opportunity 
to locate the places where the orphanages are 
situated. Interesting pictures may be obtained 
from any State headquarters of the Near East 
Relief or from the national office, 151 Fifth 
Avenue, New York City. 

Facts about the Near East Relief Pani: for 
the leader’s information: 

More than sixty thousand children are being 
given care in Greece, Armenia, Georgia, the 
Caucasus district, and other Near East terri- 
tory. The majority of these children are Ar- 
menians. Most of them are orphans, and 
were made such by reason of war conditions, 
massacres, such disastrous tragedies as occurred 
at Smyrna, and the unfortunate political situa- 
tion which has necessitated the exchange of 
populations. 

13 177 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Relief work and institutional work have been 
carried on by American relief workers under 
the direction of the Near East Relief since 
early in 1917. If it were not for this work, 
these thousands of children would either be 
dead or they would be wandering like animals 
in the deserts. 

Since the work of the Near East Relief 
started, more than $45,000,000 has been ex- 
pended in the field. This amount does not 
include the expense of collection, the overhead 
in America for the maintenance of offices and 
werkers. In all, 132,532 children have been 
cared for by this agency. 

The children in the orphanages, as well as 
being clothed and fed and taught the rudiments 
of education, are learning to be self-supporting. 
The industrial shops are teaching the boys and 
girls all sorts of trades, and while learning 
the children are able to help in a very small 
way with the expenses, as they do beautiful 
work which can be sold. The gross receipts 
of the industrial shops near Aleppo now aver- 
age an income of approximately $2,495 a month 
on products of carpentry, shoemaking, tailoring, 
tinsmithing, blacksmithing, weaving and needle- 
work. One orphanage reports 7,200 pairs of 
stockings knitted. 

178 


‘STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


There have been, and are, times when the 
industrial work must be halted for lack of 
means to buy material with which the children 
may work. The industrial sense of Armenians 
is very strong, as is also their gratitude to their 
benefactors. When the materials for work are 
lacking, the children will go to almost any 
length to get thread, etc., to work with. ‘This 
work in the Near East will need to be carried 
on for a number of years to come, if we are to 
keep faith with these children. 

A special program can be arranged for the 
day on which the money is brought in. The 
following is suggested: Songs, story, the sixty- 
seventh Psalm recited by a boy or a girl. Then 
have a girl representing an Armenian orphan 
come onto the platform and tell in her own 
words the story of her people. The teach- 
er may help the child work out a simple story 
from the facts given. 

At the conclusion of her story, a boy or a 
girl will go up and take his or her place beside 
the Armenian orphan and will make an appeal, 
something like the following: 

We who live in America, with its safety 
and plenty, can scarcely realize that on the other 
side of the world there are people who live 
in constant fear of their lives; that there are 

179 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


people who are always hungry; that there are 
children like this orphan who are in want. 
People with love in their hearts and a desire 
to follow the teachings of Jesus give money 
that the hungry may be fed. Many people 
themselves go to be nurses and relief workers, 
giving up friends and homes for the sake of 
those who need them. If people should stop 
giving their money, thousands of children 
would be turned out of the orphanages to die. 
What can we do for this orphan and the thou- 
sands of other children in the Near East? Are 
we willing to share our plenty to relieve their 
want? 

A boy or a girl in the audience arises and 
says: ““‘We have money which we will gladly 
give. We have saved it from the money given 
to us to spend on ourselves.” 

All the children say together, “‘Yes, yes, we 
will give.”’ 

The children will then go up and drop their 
envelopes into a basket or bag which the child 
speaker who stands beside the Armenian girl 
aolds. After the gifts are all in, the speaker 
will give the basket, or bag, to the Armenian 
girl, with a few words like this: 

Here is money from our American boys 
and girls. They want to share their happi- 

180 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


ness with you and those others in your far-off 
land. We hope that hundreds of people in 
our favored America will also give that you 
and your brothers and sisters may know want 
no more, but may live happily as we do. 

The Armenian girl will speak a few words 
of thanks, and both leave the platform. 

Suggested prayer: O God of love, giver 
of all things, who hast filled our lives with 
plenty and gladness, we bow before Thee to- 
day. We thank Thee for our homes, the 
blessings of parents and love. We remember 
to-day that all people of the world are not 
so favored. Help us to have hearts full of love 
and sympathy and to work with Thee to make 
the world happier. Bless all the orphans in 
the world, and especially the ones for whom 
we have brought gifts. Grant them happiness 
and make us glad because we have helped them 
to be glad. May we more and more be workers 
together with Thee in Thy world. This we 
ask in the name of Christ, our Example and 
Saviour. Amen. 


Group VII.—FAITHFULNESS IN SERVICE. 
(See Stories XVI. and XVII.) 


Aim: To impress the children with the fact 
that those who follow Jesus’ teachings must live 
181 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


lives of service, even though it takes self-denial 
and heroism. 

It is suggested that the group activities 
under this phase of the study of social living 
be in the nature of a discussion of incidents. 
A number of short sketches of lives of service 
may be typed and given to different members 
of the class in advance, so they will be able to 
read them readily in the class period. A few 
sketches are given herewith; others will suggest 
themselves to the teachers. 

Joaquin Miller wrote a poem about Colum- 
bus and his men, describing the long weeks of 
sailing over what seemed to them an endless, 
shoreless sea. When the men, frightened and 
discouraged, with all hope gone, asked, “What 
shall we do?’ Columbus answered, “Sail on! 
Sail on! Sail on!” 

Ask the children if any of them know the 
poem. If so, let them repeat it. This is a 
splendid example of stedfastness of purpose. 

PAUL, even when suffering in prison and 
condemned to die, did not regret all he had en- 
dured for the sake of being a faithful servant. 
He remembered the day he had that glorious 
vision on the way to Damascus when he was 
converted. He had asked then, “‘Lord, what 
wilt thou have me to do?” Jesus had showed 

182 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


him the way of service, and he followed in that 
way and served Jesus and his fellow-men in 
spite of hunger, cold, beatings with rods, beat- 
ings with whips, stoning, shipwreck, imprison- 
ment and death. At the end he could truthfully 
say, “I have fought a good fight; I have kept 
the faith.” Paul lived one of the most heroic 
lives of service in all history. 

When ABRAHAM LINCOLN. was a young 
man he went on a trip to New Orleans. When 
his work was done, he wandered about the city 
to see the sights. He came to a slave market, 
where black (negro) men and women and 
children were being sold as slaves. ‘They were 
put up at auction like cattle or furniture and sold 
to the highest bidder. Men were separated 
from their wives and children from their par- 
ents and sold to different people—carried off, 
never to see each other again. Lincoln was so 
overcome with horror that he hurried away 
from the scene, because he could not stand it. 
As he went he said to himself: “If ever I get 
a chance to hit that thing [meaning slavery], 
I’]] hit it hard.” All the rest of his life he stood 
for the freedom of the slaves, although his 
friends told him at the beginning of his public 
life that it would ruin his career. It did not 
ruin his career, and one day when he was 

183 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


President he had the great joy of signing a 
paper that made five million human beings free. 

JoOsIAH was eight years old when he began to 
reign in Jerusalem. He was too young to do 
any great service for his people. But as he was 
growing to manhood and wishing for opportuni- 
ties to serve, he discovered that the temple 
needed repairing. That was something he 
could do. He gave instructions to have it 
repaired. The workmen found a book of the 
law that had been lost, and the priest brought 
it to Josiah, explaining that it was part of their 
Holy Scriptures. Josiah read it and found stern 
commands against worshiping idols. He was 
troubled. His people had fallen into idol-wor- 
ship, and now he was convinced that God was 
displeased. This gave him a desire for a 
splendid service. He would do away with idol- 
worship and have his people live so God would 
be pleased with them. But it was a dangerous 
step to take. Perhaps his people would object 
and rise up against him. But “he did that 
which was right in the sight of the Lord, and 
turned neither to the right nor to the left.” 
He ordered the idols to be destroyed and the 
priests of the idol-worship put down. He 
issued a command that thereafter the people 
should worship only God. His people admired 

184 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


his courage, understood that he desired only 
their good and to serve them, and they turned 
to the worship of the true God. 

Davip LIVINGSTONE was one of the great- 
est servants of others that we have knowledge 
of. He loved God with all his heart and his 
neighbor as himself, even better, it seemed some- 
times. Nothing could turn him aside from the 
task of service he set for himself—to open up 
the dark continent of Africa to the preaching 
of the gospel. His hardships and sufferings are 
beyond our imagination. He traveled through 
jungles, over deserts, waded rivers, tramped 
through swamps where the spongy mixture of 
mud and water was up to his waist and lizards 
would fasten themselves upon him. Such hard- 
ships he endured for days and weeks and 
months in succession. He was often hungry; 
often sick from swamp fever and exposure; 
he even fought with wild animals. He had a 
lame arm for life because a lion had crushed 
the bone. He was often in danger of the wild, 
savage tribes. But he persevered to the end 
because of his devotion to God and his desire to 
serve the needy people in Africa. 

Point out to the children that rea] heroism 
always means either a conquest of self or ser- 
vice to others or both. Those who are the 

185 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


greatest heroes and heroines are always those 
who have served the best. 

Suggested prayer: Dear Father in heaven, 
we thank Thee that Thou didst send Jesus into 
the world to show us the real meaning of ser- 
vice. We thank Thee for His works of healing, 
for His works of teaching. We thank Thee that 
even as a boy Jesus understood that His first 
duty was to be about His Father’s business. 
Make us helpful in our homes, in school, to our 
friends and neighbors, to all who need what we 
can do for them. And as we grow to be men 
and women, help us to serve in bigger things, 
and to know that in work or play we can be 
helpful to others and pleasing to Thee. This 
we ask in Jesus’ name. Amen. 


Group VIII.—TuHeEe CuristmMas LESSON. 
(See Story XX.) 


Aim: To impress the boys and girls with 
the fellowship of people in all parts of the world 
in the celebration of Christmas. 

A child may recite the poem, “Everywhere, 
Everywhere, Christmas To-night,’’ by Phillips 
Brooks. 

In one group the children were much inter- 
ested in hearing of the various customs of other 
lands in the celebration of Christmas. Children 

186 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


were dressed in the costumes of various coun- 
tries and told of customs they followed which 
were different from ours. If it were found 
inadvisable to try to costume the children, they 
could just tell the name of the country they 
represent before telling their story. 
Information on this subject may be found 
in “Yuletide in Many Lands,” by Pringle. 
Discuss the power of the gospel and the 
faithfulness of those who through the years 
have witnessed for Jesus. Compare that little 
group who celebrated the first Christmas night 
with the vast numbers who every year now 
remember the birthday of the Christ-child, 
the thousands who now worship Him. 
Suggested prayer: Dear Father in heaven, 
we thank Thee for sending Jesus into the world 
to be our Teacher, our Master and our Saviour. 
We are glad for the spread of the blessed 
story of Jesus into so many parts of the world. 
Help us as we celebrate the birth of our blessed 
Lord to crown Him King in our hearts. Amen. 


Group X.—STRENGTHENING Our Goop 
RESOLUTIONS. 


(See Story XXI.) 


Aim: To help the children see what good 
habits are necessary to the growth of fine 
187 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


character, in what habits they are weak, and 
how to strengthen their resolutions to correct 
their faults. 

The teacher may write on the blackboard a 
list of virtues that we need to practice; as, for 
instance: 


Obedience. Neatness. 
Honesty. Studiousness. 
Promptness. Pure thoughts. 


Doing the duty that confronts us. 
Being a loyal disciple of Jesus Christ. 
After a free and full discussion of the need 
and meaning of each of the foregoing points, the 
teacher may give the boys and girls a sheet of 
paper on which has been mimeographed some- 
thing like the following: 


UPWARD STEPS FOR THE COMING YEAR. 


As I climb the steps of the coming year, I 
will give special attention to and try to be more 
faithful in— 

(Here let the boys and the girls write in 
their resolutions. ) 

After the teacher has given out the slips, she 
should explain that she wants each boy or each 
girl to look at his or her life honestly, decide on 
the points where he or she is weak and write on 

188 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


the sheet the good habits he or she is resolved 
to strengthen the coming year. Give a few min- 
utes for the children to think, then the leader 
may offer a prayer, after which the children will 
write their resolutions and sign their names, fold 
the sheets and hand to the leader. Do not let 
any atmosphere of pretense enter into this pro- 
cedure. Stress sincerity. 

Suggested prayer: Our dear Father, we 
thank Thee for life. We are glad that Thou 
dost give us one day at a time to live; that 
Thou dost give us a new chance each day to 
correct the faults of yesterday. Help us to 
desire the very highest good that life has to 
offer, and help us to live day by day at our very 
best. May we strive to please Thee in every 
way, to be loyal and true disciples of Jesus 
Christ whom Thou didst send to show us the 
right way of life. If we follow Him, we shall 
come to manhood and womanhood true and 
honest and pure; we shall live lives of helpful 
service; and at the end of life we shall be able 
to say with Paul, “I have fought a good fight; 
I have kept the faith.” And when we stand 
before Thee in eternity, may we hear Thee 
say: ‘Well done, good and faithful servant.” 
This we ask in our dear Redeemer’s name. 
Amen. 

189 


XXIII. 
SUPPLEMENTAL. 


Suggestions of hymns to be used with stories. 

Stories I. and II.—‘‘Home, Sweet Home,” 
“OQ Happy Home,” “Yield Not to Tempta- 
tion,’ ‘‘Blest Be the Tie that Binds.” 

Stories III., IV. and V.—‘‘What a Friend 
We Have in Jesus,” “Love Thyself Last,” 
“T’ye Found a Friend,” “I Would Be True,” 
“O Master, Let Me Walk with Thee.” 

Stories VI. and VII.—‘Somebody Did a 
Golden Deed,” “Love Thyself Last,” “Angry 
Words, Oh, Let Them Never,” ‘Kind Words 
Can Never Die.” 

Story VIII.—‘“Have You Had a Kindness 
Shown?” “Take My Life and Let slt Be,” 
‘Somebody Did a Golden Deed.”’ 

Story [X.—‘We’ve a Story to Tell to the 
Nations,” ““The Whole Wide World for Jesus,” 
“Brightly Beams Our Father’s Mercy.” 

Stories X. and XI.—‘‘America the Beauti- 
ful,” “I Would Be True,” ‘‘Dare to Be Brave,” 

190 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


“Yield Not to Temptation,” ‘True-hearted, 
Whole-hearted.” 

Stories’ All,,) NEIL XIV: and, XV.—"O 
Master Workman of the Race,” “Have You 
Had a Kindness Shown?” ‘Somebody Did a 
Golden Deed,” ‘‘When the Lord of Love Was 
Here,” “Hark! the Voice of Jesus Calling,” 
“It May Not Be on the Mountain’s Height,”’ 
“O Master, Let Me Walk with Thee.” 

Stories XVI. and XVII.—*“God Will Take 
Sarevot- You, \; Dare to Be Brave,’> “True- 
hearted, Whole-hearted,” ‘‘Where Cross the 
Crowded Ways of Life,” “Brightly Beams Our 
Father’s Mercy.” 

Story XVIII.—“O Day of Rest and Glad- 
ness,” “Safely through Another Week,” “Yield 
Not to Temptation.” 

Story XIX.—"Faith of Our Fathers,” 
“Dare to Be Brave,” ‘Father, Lead Me Day 
by Day,” “I Would Be True.” 

Story XX.—Joy to the World,” “It Came 
upon the Midnight Clear,’ ‘““While Shepherds 
Watched Their Flocks by Night.” 

Story XXI.—‘Another Year Is Dawning,” 
“Ring Out the Old, Ring in the New,” “I 
Would Be True,” “Rejoice, Ye Pure in Heart.” 

191 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


SUGGESTIONS FOR SUPPLEMENTARY 
STORIES. 


Family Life-—‘‘About Angels,” in “The 
Golden Window,” by Laura Richards; ‘The 
Little Grandmother,” in ‘“The Children’s 
Hour,” Bailey and Lewis. 

Neighborliness.—‘‘Neglect the Fire and 
You Can Not Put it Out,” Tolstoy; ‘Where 
Love Is, God Is,’’ Tolstoy. 

Strangers and Foreigners.—‘‘How the Ar- 
tist Forgot Four Colors,” in “Primary Mis- 
sionary Stories,’ Applegarth; ‘“Anmuammal’s 
Lost Sheep,” Rosa Nolting, in “Here and There 
Stories’ (pamphlet), published by the Con- 
gregational Publishing Society. 

Forgiving Our Enemies.—"The Persian 
and His Son,” in ‘World Stories Retold,” Sly; 
“Coals of Fire,” in “Ethics for Children,” 
Cabot. 

Making Others Happy.—‘The Happy 
Prince,”,.in. Fairy’ Tales to’ Tell Childrens 
Oscar Wilde; ‘Little Gavroche,” in ‘‘Stories 
for Worship and How to Follow Them Up,” 
by Hartshorne; ‘““The Boy Who Gave a Cup 
of Cold Water,” in ‘“‘The Rules of the Game,” 
Lambertson; “The Coming of the King,” in 
“The Golden Windows,” Laura Richards. 

192 


STORIES FOR THE JUNIOR HOUR 


Faithfulness in Service-—‘‘Grace Darling,” 
in ‘Heroines Every Child Should Know,” 
Mabie and Stephens; “Florence Nightingale,” 
in “Heroines Every Child Should Know;” 
“Father Damien,” in “Heroes Every Child 
Should Know,” Mabie; ‘‘Vive La France,” in 
‘Tell Me a Hero Story,” Stewart; “Wu Yuan, 
A Chinese Hero,” in ‘“‘Rules of the Game,” 
Lambertson. 

Dictates of Conscience-—‘William Tell,” 
in “‘Walks with Jesus,’’ Chamberlain and Kern 
(series entitled “Child Religion in Song and 
Story”’). 

Good Resolutions.—‘“The Lumps of Clay,” 
in “The Blue Flower,’’ Van Dyke. 


193 


Jala | a) 4 
by ii 


ty 


yd 
Tis. -. 
ieee 


GRE ah 


‘iw 


has F 


Yr hee Ay 
! i 4 
4 


eae 





7, 
1h. oc 
al 
A 
‘ 5 
AL 
i. 
7, 


5s ee 5 ets Pas 


> % wnt ae wy 
$i ‘Toe Poe yk he 
PE 965 Oey Gen 
> yee 


it ee * oe 









016 — 


N 7 cy ‘AG 


— J 


2) 
coal 





J 
3 
> =. 
4 
* x a ” 











ee 61 1012 0103 








i 





